


National City Rejects

by Miss_sunfire



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Clark Kent Being an Asshole, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kara Danvers Gets a Hug, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Kryptonian Biology, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Seriously fuck canon, Sex Work, krypton was essentially a bdsm verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_sunfire/pseuds/Miss_sunfire
Summary: National City is a tough place. With countless disasters, cut-throat high-tech businesses on every street corner and rent prices raised high into the stratosphere. Every day sees another few poor sods run out of the city exhausted, depressed or just plain scared.It’s hardly a surprise then that National City’s flotsam often takes a hop-skip and a jump over the bay to the Star city docks. Where the bars are warm under the rainy sky, booze is cheap, and no questions are asked.A friend, lied to and betrayed by everyone that mattered to her, looking for a fresh start.A detective, burned one too many times but still trying to make the world a better place.A sister, who’s lost every last piece of stability she had, desperately trying to keep it together.Three women, pulled under the riptide.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Lena Luthor/Maggie Sawyer
Comments: 103
Kudos: 233





	1. Roxanne's

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I'm sortof back writing after a big deadline at work. I'm not sure how long I'll stick around. Still to let you know, as much as fandom tries to ignore certain asshole authors (cough JKR cough) I've gotten annoyed enough with them recently to just become a bit bitter about things. For the moment all my HP fics are being shelved. Who knows if I'll ever go back and finish em off.
> 
> Instead, have some supergirl!

Mist curled through salt chilled air on a cold fall night. The city was humming with a strange yet still common sort of subdued energy. The sun had slipped behind the rolling banks of thick, damp clouds over an hour ago. The big rush of commuters escaping the downtown core to return to their dwellings had long since passed. The press and excitement of the standard friday night crowd of young, trendy students out to hit the clubs was barely starting. No, for the moment, the streets were calm. Merely spattered about with those exhausted masses getting out of long overtime shifts, slowly shambling along to whatever source of stress relief they could find.

Which, to be fair, was an atmosphere which fit one Maggie Sawyer just fine. 

After all, her back and knees were already killing her after a far, far too long day. A headache was slowly blooming from years of excess stress and work, which she was well on her way to medicating with a cup of warm organic green tea. Frankly she was just hoping she could get to her destination without the traitorous Star City sky opening up on her. She was in absolutely no mood to be both exhausted and drenched to the bone. 

Luck, as it would seem, was with her as she turned a corner. Block after block slipped away as the warmth of the tea seeped its way into her chest. Shiny, brightly lit theatres and upscale restaurants changed slowly into glitzy clubs, already pumping out thumping bass music. When those too slipped away, she found herself outside a series of only slightly skivvy strip joints, until finally her goal was in sight. 

The old Star City docks, long home to the poor and forgotten. Those who were willing to stand the smell of slowly ripening fish and spilled oil for a good deal on rent. Those who just wanted to be left alone. Those who didn’t want anybody asking any probing questions. Those who just, for whatever reason, didn’t really fit in with the regular downtown crowd. 

Maggie flashed a tired grin as she turned another corner. After all, barring one or two key exceptions, here was where the nightlife _really_ was...at least for those who weren’t a 20 something hetero college student. The skivvy strip clubs off the main strip slowly broadened out. Replaced by a varied smattering of restaurants, gay bars, bathhouses and cheap “hotels” of all stripes. Some were still old, cheap, run-down holes in the walls. Others, well, the immortal spin of gentrification always had to claim it’s bloody toll. 

Not that Maggie really had much ground to complain about all the swanky hipster joints opening up. She was much too fond of her vegan ice-creams and fair-trade coffees to be entirely without blame. 

Even still though, that ever present low-grade hum of tension that seemed to always run through Maggie’s shoulders these days faded away into nothing. These sorts of neighborhoods always seemed to have that effect. They helped give her that subconscious “around friends and allies” feeling that let her ever present guard just...simmer for a bit. 

The grin on Maggie’s face got wider, and the exhaustion that had seeped deep into her bones fell away, step by step. Especially as her feet took her down the old stone steps to her favorite little old bar in the basement of a nice chinese joint. The doorbell clanged as she ducked her head in and sauntered her way inside. 

Rich, rustic wood furnishings filled out the warm, welcoming space. Lively samba music echoed off the dark cement walls and low ceilings of the space. Even so, a few patrons were already swinging around the dance floor off toward the back of the bar. Hardwood tables and deep red booths lined the sides of the space, around half of which were filled with women of all shapes, sizes and colours. The crowd varied, with a sparse few patrons done up to the nines in elegant dresses and makeup. Others were dressed way down, practically covered in flannel and bluejeans. A few even chose to rock leather pants, jackets and spiked black collars. While the happy atmosphere flared a certain ember of warmth in Maggie’s chest, the woman only had eyes for one person at that particular moment. 

“Roxy! How’s it hanging?!” Maggie barked out, bouncing her way over to grab the attention of the lovely older gentlewoman behind the bar. 

After a few moments, the tall lady leaning on the bar turned her head away from an animated discussion with one of the patrons and caught sight of Maggie. Slowly the woman behind the bar straightened up to a towering six foot two. Slowly the woman lifted a hand to elegantly smooth down the rather dapper dark blue dress shirt she wore with a black tie and rainbow suspenders holding up black leather pants. Maggie cracked a warm grin as the warm brown eyes under a head of short salt and pepper hair roved up and down Maggie. 

“I see. The bitch is back. To yet again defile the sanctity of my poor bathrooms.” Roxanne huffed seriously, sending Maggie a deep glare and folding dark brown arms. 

“Aww, don’t be like that Roxy. I promise, tonight I’ll be sweet as pie, you’ll see. Best behavior.” Maggie said, snorting at the eyebrow, raised high in disbelief, she received back for her trouble. 

“Mags, the day you behave yourself is the day I win the lottery and the old braggart in the white house drops dead from a painful heart attack. I’ll believe it when I see it and not a moment earlier.” Roxanne said back gruffly. Even still, Maggie counted it as a distinct win if the half-amused, half-exasperated smirk curling the corners of the other woman’s mouth was any indication. 

“Oh, woe is me! I’m hurt, deeply hurt Roxy, that you would think so little of me. How ever will I go on living in this dark, lonely world” Maggie snarked, throwing a hand to her forehead in her best wilting princess impression. Slowly she leaned her weight back until she was practically falling dramatically over into one of the empty bar stools in front of one of her best (and only) friends in this city.

Which, after one final mournful groan of Maggie, was finally enough to crack Roxanne’s composure. Maggie smiled brightly as the woman let out that deep, rumbly cackle of hers that Maggie knew she only did when she was feeling particularly comfortable and happy. 

“Oh, come off it bitch. Glad to see your still alive and well Mags. What’ll it be?” Roxanne eventually asked, leaning back comfortably onto the bar. Maggie grinned and sat up in her seat happily. 

“Oh, the usual, double whiskey on the rocks.” Maggie asked quickly. After a quick nod Roxanne spun off to go grab the bottle of mid-shelf whiskey she knew Maggie favored. Meanwhile, Maggie let her attention wander and glance around the room. 

Happily the party was already bouncing pretty well. Here and there Maggie saw regulars and acquaintances, but a large chunk of the room was new to her. Something which was definitely a good sign with how many bars and clubs had been hit hard from everything going to the apps these days. 

“Hey Roxy, looks like you got a nice crowd, who all’s out tonight?” Maggie asked, humming happily when a large, well filled glass was clunked in front of her. Roxanne gave Maggie a _look_ and let out a deep sigh. 

“Already on the lookout then?” The older woman huffed, drumming her fingers on the bar briefly in annoyance. Maggie merely laughed and slapped a couple bills on the table. Her usual (and rather generous) tip for the drink. 

“Hey, I’m not only looking to womanize. Sometimes I just wanna hang out with my friends and blow off some steam! I resent that implication!” Maggie barked out, flashing a slightly toothy smirk. 

“Mags, don’t even try. We both know your version of blowing off steam, involves more sucking and spanking than anything.” The older woman huffed out, crossing her arms over her chest threateningly. 

“Ooooh, ouch. You’re killin me here Rox. A woman’s got needs, what can I say?” Maggie replied, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “Still, it’s not like you to be this evasive. Spill.” She continued, taking a deep sip of her drink. Roxanne for her part merely grimaced and bit her lip. Clear tells that something was bothering her. 

“Well, Jessie and Amelia have been sucking faces with their new beaus in the back corner for the last half hour or so. I’m just hoping I don’t have to get out the disinfectant in the next 10 minutes. Which, well, is probably a pipe dream at this point. One of them looks like they’re probably a gusher to me.” Roxanne said, sighing deeply and tightening her fists on the bar. A look of utmost “why is this my life?” plastered all over her face. 

Which. Ow. Guess that’s one apparently now ex friend with benefits and one just plain ex here tonight. Fuck.

Maggie had another slosh of her drink, feeling entirely too sober for dealing with any sort of even half baked feelings right about now. 

“Okay, thanks for the warning. Anybody else from the regular crew?” Maggie asked, taking another quick glance over her shoulder.

“Not too many. Joanne’s around here somewhere. Tash and her gaggle of friends are by the pool table. Lots of newbies tonight though actually. Lots of friends of friends giving recommendations and all that shit. Should help keep the doors open at least.” The older barkeep rambled on, looking pretty pleased at the turnout. Maggie gave her a warm grin. 

“Sounds great Rox.” Maggie said, resisting the urge to walk around the bar and give the big old teddy bear of a woman a hug. Business for bars on the seedier side of the city was always tough, but Roxanne’s was practically a landmark at this point. Anyone who knew anyone in the scene at least knew of it. Most were regulars. Still, as more and more of the younger crowd moved to dating online business had slowed some and the clientele had started ageing some. The younger woman was just glad things seemed to still be stable for her friend. 

Roxanne and her bar did, after all, have a large part in helping Maggie keep herself sane after she “left” the police force a year or two back. There’s only so much drowning your sorrows can really do, and Roxy was not one to just go on enabling a friend. She was a big part of pushing Maggie into her new line of work. She did after all, always deal better with feelings when she had something to exhaust and distract herself with. 

“Well then, I think I’m gonna tour the room for a bit, check in with everybody. Who knows, maybe I’ll make some new friends if I’m lucky.” Maggie said, shooting the older woman that grin that Maggie knew flashed those dimples people seemed to like so much. Roxanne let out an indulgent snort and waved her off as she set off to an expedition into the wild blue yonder. 

Which, really, was about what Maggie would expect. A bunch of semi awkward smalltalk with people she was half familiar with, some catching up with longtime friends, some commiserating over the sorry state of the world, even a bit of lighthearted flirting with the odd pretty girl here and there. Despite all her joking, Maggie honestly wasn’t expecting much more. She came to Roxanne’s mostly for a good drink or two and some nice music. Anything “extra” that happened was fairly infrequent and coincidental. 

Then, around half an hour and three quarters of a glass of whiskey later she saw the brunette in the dark corner of a booth near the back of the room. 

Whoever she was, she seemed...somewhat out of place. It wasn’t anything major or worrying. Rather, the expensive (and appealingly form fitting) suit jacket and expensive gold jewelry all spoke of someone who well...was slumming it. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight business ready ponytail. Well manicured but short cut red nails clicked away on the woman’s glass of some sort of expensive malt liquor. The other hand was nervously tap-tapping away on a phone laid out on the table in front of her.

Maggie couldn’t help but stare a little, every now and then as she wandered around the room. Every time she paused, her gaze would, just for a few seconds return and linger curiously. 

And as she used to say what felt like a lifetime ago… she detects. 

It happens slowly over the course of many minutes as the unmistakable tension in the brunette’s shoulders unclenched. The ex-cop couldn’t really see the face of whoever it was with the awkward angle and lighting, but she could just make out a hint of dark framed glasses drilling holes into the seat across from her. The woman seemingly giving a fairly accurate rendition of a thousand yard stare, barely processing anything around her. Maggie didn’t recognize her, so she assumed she was one of the newbies.

Likely out to blow off some steam after a hard week, just like Maggie. 

What she couldn’t get a handle on however, was whether or not the woman actually wanted any company. Surely if one were to make the hike out to a hole in the wall gay bar off the main drag by themselves, one was at least potentially interested in a casual conversation? Otherwise why even bother drinking outside the house? Still though, Maggie couldn’t help but notice as the occasional hopeful lady sat down across from her, tried to chat her up...and struck out hard. One even left the table with a distinct grimace on her face that was ever so curious. Like they stepped in dog doo they didn’t see coming. 

Curious. Very curious. 

Of course, while you could take the detective out of the Maggie, the driving force of curiosity, of wanting to _know_ the truth was much harder to get rid of. 

Ahhhh, fuck it. 

One more unlucky lady probably couldn’t hurt could it? 

Marshalling her gumption, Maggie knocked back the last of her whiskey, and set off across the room after picking up a fresh glass from Roxy. 

“Hey, I realize you're probably way out of my league and just here to vibe to the atmosphere anyway, but are you up for some company?” The ex-cop said lightly as she shifted her way to stand just beside the booth. A pale neck startled briefly and Maggie made a point of flashing her most winngingly dimpled smile as she waited for the other shoe to drop.

...and boy did it. 

Slim shoulders, newly filled with tension turned around. Dark lashes flickered as a lovely face shifted into view. Deep red lips and startlingly green eyes practically pierced into Maggie as the face resolved itself and Maggie’s eyes widened. 

“Lena!?” She barked out, surprised. 

A frustrated hiss filled the air and suddenly Maggie found a vice grip wrapped around her wrist that pulled her down to sit in the booth with a harsh thump. Maggie felt herself blinking from surprise rather dumbly, even as an aggrieved voice started grumbling in her ear. 

“My fucking god, is it too much to bloody ask for one bloody night of getting pleasantly sloshed without everybody and their mom recognizing me and getting on my damn case. Fuck! Could you not have at least shouted it to the room lady!” The voice, now thickening with frustration and the faintest hint of irish lilt, complained. Maggie has to bark out a laugh at that. Lena is surprisingly cute when she’s frustrated and a little tipsy. 

“Well, sorry if I was a little surprised to see little Danver’s CEO best friend in a cheap dive bar in fucking Star City of all places. It’s been years hasn’t it, how’re you doing?” Maggie replied smoothly. 

Lena, for her part, immediately stiffened up. Her neck swinging around to actually take a good look at Maggie. Clearly in whatever funk she’d been Lena had not actually been processing what she was seeing. Maggie felt the full force of a patented Lena Luthor death glare and just tried to smile through it as best she could. The awkward and intense stare seemed to last a good few seconds before real recognition actually seemed to bloom in the youngest Luthor's eyes. Recognition then, of course, quickly gave way to narrow eyed suspicion.

“Maggie? No, Detective Sawyer. What brings you here? Still keeping tabs on me after all this time? Or did the Danvers sisters have you track me down or something? Not going to arrest me again on half baked charges are you?” The green-eyed woman hissed with all the thoughtful grace of a truly paranoid conspiracy nerd. 

“Chill out for a second Luthor. Sheesh, cuff a girl one damn time and she holds it against you for life.” Maggie shot back, snorting incredulously. 

“Well, then, you’ll have to forgive me for being a little worried about having _you_ of all people tracking me down, _detective_. It’s not like you’ve arrested me before or anything.” Lena spat, taking an angry gulp of liquor. Maggie took a cautious glance at the other woman from the corner of her eye. 

The frustration, suspicion and even...hint of fear certainly did seem to be quite genuine. Which was something of a strange thought. They hadn’t really spoken that much while she and Alex were engaged. I mean, they interacted, but they were more acquaintances or friends of friends than anything. Plus they hadn’t seen each other since Maggie broke up with Alex and left National city. Something which was more than two years ago at this point. This level of sustained animosity to Maggie specifically just seemed...excessive.

Some part of her started hypothesizing that whatever bee was in Lena’s snatch, it probably wasn’t even really about Maggie. So, with that said, rather than getting frustrated, she took a deep breath to calm herself down before replying. 

“No, I suppose a bit of suspicion isn’t entirely out of the question.” Maggie hummed as pleasantly as she could. She took a deep sip of her whiskey to give her a second more before continuing. 

“Though, it’s a bit of a moot point these days seeing as I’m not actually a detective anymore. Haven’t been for more than a year actually.” Maggie replied, very carefully keeping her tone as even as possible. 

Some things were just difficult to talk about alright? 

Even so, the admission made only the barest crack in the dam of Lena’s paranoia. At least if the very momentary but quickly smothered surprise in her expression was any indicator. 

“So, you’re a private eye then? Who hired you? How much are they paying you? Or was it just the Danvers who asked you to track me down?” The CEO hissed, barely backing up an inch. Maggie sighed and shook her head in exasperation. 

“Okay, please, just take it down a notch would you? Nobody is paying me, nobody asked me to find you. I ain’t a private eye or anything even. I’m just a woman at a bar trying to get good and sloshed. Well and maybe get laid if I find the right girl. No plans, no angles, no secret agendas.” Maggie said, barely holding herself back from growling. Here she was, just hoping for a quiet, stress free night with some friends and some good booze. Now, all of a sudden, this ghost of National City past was stomping all over her nice, tipsy zen. 

Hell, Maggie was about three steps away from saying fuck it and going home to water her bonsai trees.

“I’m not sure I quite believe you.” Lena eventually replied after chewing on that lusciously deep red bottom lip for a good 30 seconds. Still, Maggie read a certain amount of uncertainty in that expression. She saw more confusion than anything. Which, hey, at least that’s progress over immediate irrational hostility. 

“Believe it or don’t, I’m not in the finding people business anymore. Nor have I heard from either Danvers sister in years. I actually help run a couple of queer homeless shelters across town. This is just the joint I go to unwind after work.” Maggie grouched. Still, after a fortifying slug of her drink she did try to give Lena a smile, even if it looked more strained than anything else. 

“You’re really not a cop anymore? I thought you loved your work? Practically lived for it if I recall correctly.” Lena asked, tone filled with a strange sort of mounting wonder and disbelief. 

Maggie burst out laughing. 

...well, and maybe crying a bit too. Damn. Roxy must have been cutting some onions again for one of her weird experimental hipster fusion drinks or something. Sure, that must be why her eyes were misting over. 

“Yeah.” Maggie said, voice a bit rough. She breathed slowly with a strong determination not to let it even hint at being overly rough or unsteady. 

Lena’s emerald gaze softened noticeably, the tension smoothing out of her shoulders and from around her eyes. Fuck.

“Sounds like there’s a bit of a story there? If you want to tell it?” The billionaire prodded gently.

“I mean, what's there to tell really? Who cares about bringing up ancient history?” The ex-cop groused, as she ground her nails into the table unconsciously. Lena, for her part, merely looked faintly amused at that. 

“Well, seeing as you insist the pair of us are just two tired, overstressed women looking to relax… What better time to blow off some steam? I’m not doing anything important tonight. How about you?” The green-eyed woman replied. 

Which, well, fair enough point. As much as Maggie tended to hate talking about, ugh, _feelings_ she did miss the old pub nights at the force. Very few things in this world were better stress relief than sitting around with a group of like minded individuals, getting shitfaced, and mouthing off about the boss. Plus, hell, it’s Lena. Whatever cosmic happenstance led to the two...mostly cordial acquaintances somehow landing in the same bar one rainy friday night was unlikely to repeat. The CEO was probably in that golden sweet spot of emotionally connected enough so Maggie wouldn’t feel too bad dumping on her, but also disconnected where they could just go their separate ways if it became too awkward. 

“Don’t think too hard over there. It’s just an offer. Forget I said anything if it’s too difficult to talk about.” Came an interruption from the pale skinned woman. Maggie snapped back to attention as her thought process reoriented to the there and now. She took in the renewed tension and awkwardness in Lena’s shoulders and winced. Right. Didn’t Luthor have all sorts of self-confidence issues and junk? Has that been getting better? Has she been going to therapy? 

...right no, of course not, its _Luthor_ of all people. 

Right. How do people do the talking thing again? With all the words, and the emotions? She wasn’t really used to that anymore. 

“Oh, I don’t really mind. It’s...more just _frustrating_ than anything else.” Maggie said as she knocked back whatever was left in her still mostly full glass. Fuck it. Having a buzz was useful for this kind of thing. 

“Same story all over the place I guess. After Alex and I ripped each other’s still beating hearts out of our chests, I transferred to Star City PD. Things were okay for a bit. Only a couple of months in there was this big whole _thing._ ” Maggie continued, her voice going rough and stormy as she even started thinking about some specific...instances. Even just thinking about it got her so fucking mad, and just... 

“A... _thing_? Such lovely thick description Miss Sawyer. Truly the bards must write odes about your erudite vocabulary.” Lena interjected dryly when the silence dragged on too long. 

“Fuck off. I’m getting to it you gloriously sarcastic princess.” Maggie barked back, giving Lena a playful poke to the side. She only felt partially mollified at the slightly sheepish (but still distinctly amused) look on the other woman’s face. She was also slowly noticing that the way the too small booth was nudging their sides up against each other. Lena was...quite warm and distracting.

Maggie coughed once before continuing. 

“Anyway. I’m not a naive idiot. I know a lot of cops are shit. I got the job to make sure when some poor kid in a shit situation ran up against a badge they’d have someone in their corner. Someone who gets it, y’know? How shitty most cops can get? How fucking slanted the system is.” She explained, pausing slightly to glance over at Lena. Who was watching on with firm attention, nodding along politely. Those deep green orbs were practically shimmering too, which was _quite_ unfair. 

Maggie viciously held down the heat slowly coming up to the tips of her ears. Fuck. This was classic Maggie. Of course she’s just gonna get drunk and hit on her ex’s, sister’s best friend. Only to then get suddenly emotionally attached and start talking about stupid, intense, feelings. 

Fucking hell, should she be looking up u-haul services yet?

“Long story short, a bunch of cops on the beat were being real asshats. Throwing their weight around, pressuring store owners into low key bribes and stuff, catcalling passing women. You know the type. Only, occasionally it escalated. Not usually when I was around to call them on their shit. Still, Y’know how it is, some asshole with a badge gets it in his head that some brown kid isn’t respecting him properly and shit goes south in a hurry.” Maggie continues, as her voice vacillated between high key pissed off ranting and thick emotion. 

Maggie felt a nice, warm hand gently cupping over her forearm. Ah, that was a nice...thing that definitely didn’t happen. Maggie coughed again, feeling the warmth of good booze and company warming her chest up just right. 

“So, another long story short. Things went bad, someone got beat up enough they couldn’t just hand wave things away. I saw the whole damn thing. Yelled my damn ass off trying to get the fuckhead cop to pull his head out of his ass.” The ex-cop growled out, clenching her fingers around her glass painfully tight. 

_Fuck._ Roxy and her damn onions.

“So, yeah. I think you can probably guess what all happened. The guys wanted to ‘get their stories straight’ or whatever. I refused. The union got involved. While I didn’t get fired, I was actually the one written up for insubordination afterwards. Got my ass blacklisted from basically every other police force in the country. Only got sent out on solo calls after that. Whenever I called for backup it was mysteriously ‘delayed’ by like 10 minutes. I was probably going to die in a ditch somewhere eventually because of those assholes, so I quit.” Maggie explained, grinding her teeth the entire time. Slowly, ever so slowly, she took a couple of big deep breaths to calm herself down. 

“It was...a big whole shitty _thing_ is what you’re saying? I understand why you left. _Things_ have a way of spiraling like that.” Lena replied lightly with just the hint of a smirk. 

Maggie started a bit to look at her closer. That was...not quite the reaction she expected. Still, the smirk on the other woman’s face was actually slowly turning into something more genuine. Something softer. Honestly, it seemed like Lena maybe even just had a bad case of resting smirk face. Her eyes on the other hand were entirely too warm and filled with a surprising amount of understanding. 

...fucking onions indeed. 

Honestly, thinking about it for a second, Maggie really rather found herself appreciating the other woman’s reaction. There was no pity. No, ‘oh that must have been so tough for you.’ No honest aggrieved ranting about the corruption of the system that somehow made it all about the listeners hurt feelings. 

Just honest agreement. Yeah. Shit sucks. 

Maggie surreptitiously wiped a traitorously wet eye. 

“Yeah. Big shitty _thing_ is about right. What about you? What sort of _thing_ brings you to the ass end of Star City of all places?” Maggie asked, clearing her thought pointedly. Gods, she was all out of spoons to give for talking about her own shit. 

...It was kinda nice though. Felt like something of a load off her shoulders. Like unburdening some invisible weight that she’d been carrying around basically every day for _years._

Lena’s face appeared to go through a truly fascinating spiral of quick emotions. First came a slight widening of the eyes into surprise. Then it changed into a suspicious narrowing. Then Lena added a grumpy pinch of the mouth. After she chased it down with a frustrated tightening of fingers on the younger woman’s glass. Lastly, Lena ended it all with a deep, world-weary sigh as Lena collapsed miserably onto the table in front of them.

“Well, you’d actually have to try and specify for me. It could be the ‘my brother got pardoned by the cheeto and kicked me out of the company _thing_. It could also be the ‘hey why don’t I just say fuck him and start my own company’ like a workaholic idiot _thing._ Really though, if you’d ask my therapist it’s mostly the ‘my best friend and straight crush lied to me everyday for years’ _thing_ that really got me out of National City.” Lena slowly groused out miserably. Before she was even conscious of it, Maggie found herself laying her palm down on the other woman’s arm in a mirrored gesture of comfort. 

...Then the actual content of Lena’s words hit her.

“Wait, what the fuck? I’ve been keeping away from the news for like the last couple of months for sanity, but did Lex seriously get pardoned. Sweet donkey balls, that’s fucked up.” Maggie spat out before she could close her big fat mouth. 

“Yup. Preaching to the choir Miss Sawyer. Preaching to the choir. It was this whole _thing,_ as I’m sure you’ll understand.” Lena replied, humming in a tone that was half amused and half hysterical. Her bottom lip turned up in the most adorable exaggerated pouty face Maggie had seen in ages. 

Fuck. Little Luthor was surprisingly expressive and adorable when she wasn’t being all ‘mega-paranoid’ bitch. Or maybe that was the booze talking. Or maybe not. Who knows?

...then the other half of Lena’s comment caught up in her brain. 

“Wait again, are you saying Little Danvers actually got up the gumption to tell her sister to fuck off and tell you about the whole, you know, _thing?_ Huh, may wonders never cease.” Maggie said, a hint of nostalgic amusement in her voice as she turned to stare off towards the other side of the booth. 

Wait a minute. Shit. Maybe not the most tactful way to say that. Sounds like there were all sorts of fallout and hurt fee-fees. Her eyes flicked back to Lena.

Lena’s eyes widened suddenly in a comical display of surprise. A second later the woman tensed like a cat having it’s fur rubbed backwards and snapped her back straight up in her seat. Green eye’s on a long, pale neck flicked up and down Maggie as if dissecting her. The patented Luthor glare was back in full force as those red, red lips pursed dangerously. 

Maggie felt a traitorous shiver run up and down her spine. 

“What do you mean by that?” Lena asked in the most deceptively businesslike neutral tone the ex-cop had ever heard. Truly, she sounded more like an angry lioness just planning some deadly trap for whatever poor prey animal was about to be eaten whole. 

Maggie coughed, feeling the shiver clench in an area just a bit _lower._

...and maybe a bit wetter. 

“Well, I mean, it’s surprising right? That she actually told you. The entire time I was dating Alex it always kinda struck me how close and codependent their relationship was. Hell, you could basically see the dynamic most days. Alex says jump, Kara asks how high. About damn near everything too.” Maggie replied as neutrally as she could. It was...easier to talk about her ex these days. Time and distance certainly help, but it would probably never be truly easy. Plus, if the twitching, angry eyebrow of Luthor’s was any indication, she really needed to tread softly. 

“So it was all just Alex’s fault then? Perfect Kara can do no wrong? Is that really the story you’re trying to sell me?” Lena spat out caustically. Maggie winced. That suspicious Lena Luthor wall seemed to be being flung up quite high again. 

“Chill out Luthor. I ain’t selling anything. Just observing some things. Even if I’m right, it’s Kara who gives Alex all that power over her life, and Alex who gets pigheaded over the stupidest of shit.” Maggie grumbled at the other woman sulkily. She had to smirk though, when one of Lena’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows twitched in the cutest sign of annoyance yet. Lena made a brief aborted movement to go on, so well, why not. 

“All I can tell you is what I saw. Which was that they certainly had some sort of unstated power imbalanced dynamic. Hell, it seemed like every couple weeks Kara would come up with some new hairbrained scheme to save some sad endangered snail somewhere or something. The second Alex expressed even the faintest hint of disapproval Kara would go all sad puppy, drop it and sulk. It was almost only ever when Alex eventually came to pet her on the head and tell her she was a good girl that Kara ever really considered doing whatever it was she proposed in the end.” Maggie explained, not bothering to hide the faintly amused, nostalgic expression on her face. It might have been unconventional as hell for ‘platonic’ foster-sisters, sure, but it also had it’s pretty dang cute moments. 

Plus, Maggie was no real stranger to power dynamics in relationships, and Alex and Kara’s was far from the weirdest thing she’s ever seen. 

Lena on the other hand looked positively poleaxed by the suggestion. Her expression was filled with the sort of amazed surprise that turned all the way from incredulous disbelief, to dawning understanding to blatant ‘how did I miss this’ shock. Maggie felt herself snickering, just a bit at the whole play by play.

Definitely not the booze. Lena was cute. Really fucking cute. 

“From everything that I know about their whole dynamic, I’m surprised Kara ever either won Alex over about you or told her off. Much as I loved her Alex was a giant paranoid idiot sometimes. We fought all the time about her going to therapy for it. As frustrating as it was, it’s sort of understandable. The first time anybody actually found out who Kara was, her Dad was essentially kidnapped and killed. That kinda trauma sticks fucking with you.” Maggie explained when Lena seemed a bit tongue tied. Might as well get it all out in the open anyways. 

“But...what about her telling all the other friends. You know, all of them who knew and helped her lie to me? Winn? James? Lucy? You?” Lena practically whispered. Maggie had to actually lean in a bit closer to actually catch her words. Which, well, she wasn’t really gonna complain. Lena, as previously stated, was quite warm and comfy. 

“Well, I don’t really know all their stories. I know Kara complained once or twice about how Superman told James without asking her in that overly patronizing way he meddles. Winn was basically her only friend for years and she told him because she got in a fight with Alex and needed to vent. I figured it out for myself. I am a detective after all. Not sure about any of the others though.” Maggie said, humming pleasantly. 

“Oh.” Lena replied quietly. Voice full of a sort of shocked understanding. Maggie gave her a rather unconscious squeeze on the arm that she hoped was vaguely comforting. 

For once, Maggie let the conversation lull as Lena stared off into the distance. The song in the bar turned from some sort of upbeat samba number to something a bit more mellow and jazzy. Maggie was happy to just sit there and vibe as Lena processed. The woman clearly seemed a bit overwrought and emotional about everything still. She kept slowly drumming her fingers on the table in front of her, in a nervous tick the Luthor wouldn’t usually indulge in (at least if Maggie’s hazy memory is correct). 

It had to be a lot to take in. Especially given Luthor's flair for the dramatic exit and Kara’s chronic inability to express her feelings on subjects she perceives could be at all hurtful to others. Maggie privately suspects they never really, honestly, talked about the whole _thing._ There was probably just some big blowout fight and Lena left town in some big dramatic huff with feelings and junk everywhere. Stupid lesbian drama. 

You know what. 

FUCK _THINGS!_

Bloody useless _things_ have been harshing the buzz and expected relaxation of two women looking to just get away from _things_ for too long! Who needs em. _Things_ are now banned! 

“You know what Lena?” Maggie asked, feeling her patented dimple filled smirk come back in its full glory. Slowly the other woman turned to face Maggie again, her eyes finally pulling back some of their sharp awareness. 

“I’m out of whiskey. You’re almost out of whiskey. Neither of us are anywhere _near_ drunk enough to talk any sort of _thing_ anymore. What’s say we get another couple of stiff drinks and banish any discussion of _things_ for at least the next two hours.” Maggie said, voice turning up in excitement as she smiled at Lena. A woman who, at this very moment was giving Maggie the cutest look of head titled confusion. 

“Okaaaay?” Lena queried hesitantly. 

Maggie felt her smirk grow. 

“Come on, little Luthor. Live a little. After all we’re just a couple of dumb sortof weird former friends blowing off steam on a lonely Friday night. Lets tell the world to fuck off for a few hours, get good and loaded drunk. Then maybe we shout our asses off about how much the world sucks and go our separate ways in the morning.” Maggie pressed with her ever widening grin not letting up for a moment. 

Bless her heart. Lena, ‘stone cold bitch,’ Luthor just smiled a big wonderful, dopey, grin at Maggie. The sort of slightly sloshed amusement one would direct at a particularly dumb but cute puppy tripping over its paws. 

...fuck, Maggie could totally see why Kara had fallen for the poor girl so hard. A fact which Maggie thought should be utterly obvious to everyone, but was apparently only obvious to her. Kara’s baby-gay fledgeling cheeps were so cute and ever present that half the time Maggie had been around her she just wanted to pinch her little indestructible cheeksies. After all, even with her sister browbeating her over the risk all the damn time, Kara never gave a single damn inch about having at least some sort of relationship with the CEO. Clearly there was something there, deep down in the woman that was absolutely worth getting close to. 

“You know what. That sounds swell. Close, drunk secret sharing friends until morning light and then practical strangers again afterwards then?” Lena eventually replied, her lilting voice bubbling with a new sort of warm excitement. 

“Absolutely.” Maggie replied. 

...Famous last words.


	2. Bad Decisions Tequila Makes for the Best Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Lena's and Maggie's totally coincidental date goes pretty fucking swell actually. 
> 
> Also, holy shit NSFW SMUT.

Predictably enough, as clean as Maggie’s suggestion to get wicked drunk, blow off some steam and then part ways again in the morning may have been, the actual implementation was substantially...messier in reality.

First, of course, there was the relatively predictable awkwardness of ordering a whole tray of shots from Roxanne behind the bar. Now, of course, Maggie’s friend was intimately familiar with Maggie’s habits and tastes. Lena, even sloshed and a bit red-eyed from their earlier emotional conversation, couldn’t help but radiate a certain power. Something which, well, Maggie was always at least a little attracted to. 

...okay a lot. Hell, she agreed to get engaged to a cute baby-gay she had initially just _known_ wouldn’t work out at least partially because she could crush Maggie’s skull with her thighs. No biggie. It doesn’t have to be a _thing_ or anything. Maggie wasn’t even really submissive in bed. Power was just...hot. 

All this to say, Roxanne took exactly one look at a grinning Maggie and stone faced Lena and just raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. Silence hung between them for a good 30 seconds after Maggie listed out their order of shots (which likely amounted to at least half a bottle of bad decisions night tequila). 

“Really Mags? Shit. Don’t scare off the new customer and at least clean up the bathroom after you're done. I don’t need to be mopping up any of you or your hot lady friend’s juices.” The grizzled barkeep gruffed out.

Lena choked on her spit behind Maggie. Maggie facepalmed. No amount of stuttered denials had at all budged the barkeeps initial impressions. Several sets of snickers were heard from nearby regulars who were listening in. Maggie just kinda hoped that a sinkhole would open up and swallow her into death to save herself from the embarrassment. No such luck apparently. 

...plus well, the sight of a heavily blushing Lena behind her had its own kind of appeal anyways. 

One way or another, Maggie and Lena found themselves back at their booth, knocking back a series of shots one after another. Semi-awkward but lighthearted conversations about booze and music preferences slowly turned comfortable and fun as the good old fashioned social lubricant started hitting them _hard._

Of course, this all led to drunk, flirty Maggie coming out in force and trying to get a rise or two out of less relaxed Lena. Which, well, even two sheets to the wind, Luthor still had admirable levels of control and poise, so Maggie had to break out the big guns. 

So, of _course_ Maggie changed the topic from just music to dancing, especially as the party wore on and the floor started heating up. Lena was firmly adamant that she couldn’t really dance, at least not to the type of music the club was playing. Which, to be fair, the constantly shifting combo of jazz, salsa and samba did require a certain degree of actual chops to dance to. 

Still, everyone was drunk as shit, probably wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and ‘whats the point of dancing at a club if you don’t make a damn fool of yourself, eh, Lena?’ When even that didn’t work, Maggie just resorted to a series of taunting chicken noises and challenged her to see who’d could make the bigger fool of themselves with their crappy high-school taught salsa steps. 

...Lena growled at her, and accepted readily, her ever competitive nature getting the best of her.

Now, Maggie will be the first to admit that she’s actually a little fucking shit. She’s also been coming to Roxanne’s for years at this point, and been interested enough to actually ask a couple of the other regulars to teach her how to salsa. So, she thinks she probably deserves the glare and sulking punch on the arm she gets when she starts slowly but effectively spinning Lena through a crash course on basic salsa dancing. However, if every now and then she spins away to go through a filthy series of steps on her own to show off, well, then that’s just her business.

Fuck off Lena. It’s not cheating. It’s just pool sharking. 

Though, she guesses the CEO isn’t too ticked off, considering the absolute _heat_ in her gaze as Maggie spins and shows off all her best assets. Especially when she has to gently manhandle the Luthor around a bit to teach her how to copy them. She may have just come from work, but Maggie knows how to make a tight fitting pair of jeans and a leather jacket work for her. The music is bouncing, the club is warm, the company is great, and the drinks are flowing readily. Right that moment, life is _great_ in Maggie’s firm opinion. 

Especially when, about two more shots of tequila later, Lena starts cursing up a storm and giving Maggie a big old middle finger. Complaints about cheaters devolve into ranting about Lena showing the ex-cop how it's done. Assurances that she totally has moves, even if they are just ones she picked up as a nigh perpetually drunk first year at college.

...Maggie feels herself practically die and go to heaven when Lena starts grinding her ass all over her. The Luthor even manages to flip her hair over her shoulder and shoot these _hungry_ looks at Maggie the whole damn time. It’s just...unfair. Hoisted on her own petard. 

Not that she’s mad. 

So yeah, dancing goes pretty fucking well actually. Then they get tired and the two women end up making out in their booth for who knows how fucking long. Maggie certainly doesn't count. Especially not when nice manicured nails are pulling at her hair and sliding up her sides. Lena seems pretty damn pleased too when Maggie starts mouthing her way up and down that gorgeous, long neck. Some part of Maggie thinks she’s being a bit stupid and irresponsible, especially as her fingers start to worry at the belt of Lena’s expensive black trousers. She tells that voice to shut the fuck up though, as she hasn’t had this much fun in goddamn _ages._

So, as she does, Roxy takes that moment exactly to stop by with a spray bottle and spritz them down like a couple of inconsiderate cats in heat. When they squawk and pull apart, the older barkeep just huffs about “the bitch being on the loose again” and drops off a giant bottle of water to ward off the hangover. 

Dear Lord, her friends are assholes...but she does kinda love them. 

Things take a bit of a step back from there, at least for a while. The tension in between them by no means cools off, nor do they stop sending alternatively flirty and suggestive looks to each other every now and then. Things just get put on simmer for a bit while actual conversation starts up again. This is around when the proposed shouting about the unfairness of the world starts up again. 

Lena, perhaps surprisingly, is the one who gets the worst case of sad-drunk emotional spewage. In it, a lot more details of the whole story start coming out. Things like how the board justified removing her as CEO because in her whole term there was no individual period of growth quite as intense as a single quarter of Lex’s in 2008. Of course, her average growth was higher, and the reason he was able to do so well was that he’d been using his vast fortune to buy up a lot of written off land and property in full vulture capitalist style. It’s why he still had so many fucking unknown boltholes and bunkers during his various confrontations with the supers. The feds were just too busy with a giant ass recession to keep track of his financial chicanery.

“Pig fucking, stuck up, white, rich, asshole, cishet men! Who needs em!” Maggie shouts.

Then of course comes the details of the whole emotional explosion henceforth called the _reveal._ As much as it would be amusing to say she damn called it, she can’t really because the sobbing pretty girl in her lap just is too cute and sad to tease. Apparently, Kara getting up the gumption to actually _talk_ to Lena had been spoiled by Lex. Said pig fucking asshole brother apparently had cancer, and wanted her to work on a cure for him. As she was hesitating between whatever residual bitter love she might have for him and her good sense, Lex had decided to add an extra incentive. To goad her famous irish temper, he’d revealed the whole “Kara is supergirl” thing and argued how she should just love to help out her loving brother get revenge on the awful alien liars. 

...yeah, everything just kinda started spiralling from there. 

Only, of _course_ , as luck would have it, a presidential pardon came in just a week later. Lex was free to consult with a great many more legitimate scientists on the issue, many of whom had more specifically studied cancer therapies than Lena, who was more of a generalist. Thus, no need for Lena. Oh, by the way the board has called a meeting on Monday. Buh bye little sis, have your shit cleaned out of my office by Friday and give me back the keys to the penthouse. Fuck off and see you later!

So, of _course_ the logical Luthor response was to bottle it all up for weeks. Which of _course_ led to her exploding on Kara when she revealed herself, and flouncing out of National City in a puff of drama and hurt feelings. Changed phone number and all. 

...Maggie just tries to give the damn girl the biggest hug she can and ignore the tears and snot staining her jacket. She gets it. That toxic love for shit family that lingers like the stench of forgotten garbage. The constant worry that nobody really likes you for you. The need to just get _away_ and start over without all the mess. 

She gets it. 

(Lena’s tears aren’t the only ones that stain her jacket)

This all gets pretty exhausting and emotional, and even Maggie is letting out a stray tear here and there as they rant and curse the world’s cruelty. So, rather than just wallowing the rest of the night away, Maggie orders them a shot for the road and decides they need another distraction.

Naturally, they find themselves at a really great hipster belgian fry shop down the block 20 minutes later. Maggie rather easily wheedles Lena into jettisoning the whole healthy diet idea. Soon both of them are happily collapsed on a shitty park bench in a shitty run-down city park eating mounds of heavily overpriced potatoes, mushroom gravy and vegan cheese. 

...It’s a pretty perfect moment actually. 

Both women are far too tired and drunk to actually sit up fully straight, so of course they end up leaning on each other. The night is chilly but blessedly dry and the warmth of each other's body staves off the worst of it. A confusing mish mash of different club songs reverberate out of the poorly insulated walls of the surrounding bars to echo through the park. Sad crying turns into nostalgic remembrance of all the good times they had in National City. You now, back in the innocent, halcyon, days when things weren’t quite so shit as they are now. Maggie has a good cry about Alex, but is still pretty firmly in the “looking back on it, it was good we ended it there because we wouldn’t have worked longer term” camp. Still, thinking of the good things is that strange, perfect mix of bittersweet that makes her regret and think ‘what if.’ 

From the sounds of it, Lena is rapidly approaching a similar enough headspace about Kara. The hurt and rage seems to have boiled out of her, and what's left is just...sad acceptance that this is how the world is now. Which, unfortunately, is pretty sad given that Lena still has a whole mess of feelings for Kara, even if she has no where to direct them at the moment.

Some time later, the fries are done and their eyes are drooping with exhaustion but neither is at all ready for the night to actually _end._ So of _course_ Lena just has to suggest they have a few “extra drinks before we part ways” at her place. Maggie can’t help but agree, because hell, in this headspace she’ll take about just any excuse to stay around this adorable, sad, inspiring, frustrating, hot as fuck woman. Lena calls a fancy driver and they both end up cuddling together in the back seat. Slowly hands wander as they tend to, and heartbeats pick up again as they are both stuck in a confined space with a very attractive partner and no further distractions. 

_Naturally_ they barely make it past Lena’s front hallway before they’ve pounced on each other. Sloppy, drunk but altogether enthusiastic fingers are groping up and down each other’s sides. Lena’s got a stupid kissable smirk on her face as her hand fists painfully in Maggie’s hair. The ex-cop finds herself rucked up against the wall, with Lena’s hot red lips against hers and their tongues battling for her dominance by their teeth. Maggie growls and presses herself forward so her body slots up against the long, hot length of _Lena._ The ex-cop has to smirk at the way Lena’s breath stutters to a stop when Maggie’s well muscled leg slots in between her legs and presses up into her crotch. 

Lena takes a moment before growling back and slaps Maggie ass, _hard,_ firmly maintaining control of the scene. 

Now, Maggie may not really be submissive in bed, but she finds this whole situation hot as fucking hell, so she allows it. Grudgingly. 

...Okay fine. It’s hot as all hell and she feels her cunt clench as she whimpers enthusiastically at the _very_ pleasing mix of pleasure and pain. . 

Still, she absolutely refuses to just sit there and take it, so instead she puts her hands to work carefully popping open buttons, prying off jackets and popping open belt buckles. The bra’s are of course the worst. It’s seriously awkward to pry one open while drunk and having your throat and neck ravaged by a hot lady, but she manages.

You know, after a try or two. Lena is fucking _distracting_ alright? She’s also wearing an amazingly pretty lacy purple lingerie number that is so _not_ work appropriate. Sheesh Lena. Give a girl a heart attack why don’t you?

So then they’re both naked as fuck, hot, wet and ready. Lena orders Maggie to her knees. Which, fine, that’s hot as fuck, but Maggie still grumbles anyway if only out of general principle. It’s not like she’s going to actually complain when a leg is hooked over her shoulder and Lena’s weight crushes her against the wall. After all, her nose is buried in thin, well trimmed curls and filled with the sweet, musky scent of _Lena._ Hot, wet heat presses down over her every sense and nothing in the world seems to matter to Maggie beyond drinking as much of it down as possible. Not even the strong, grounding fingers stuck firmly in her hair instructing her about just what to do. 

Nature takes its normal course, and Maggie is met with the surprising, wonderful, amazing, groundbreaking discovery that Lena is both a screamer, and a gusher. Her entire face is wet and sore and Maggie is so, so turned on it’s not even funny. As you might imagine, the ex-cop is feeling pretty damn smug when she has to grab and support her suddenly unsteady Luthor to the ground for a lovely post-orgasmic cuddle. 

Lena, as the totally fucking _extra_ bitch she has to be, proves she is _also_ multi-orgasmic with a very, very, short refractory period. 

...Maggie whimpers with an interesting combination of fear, wonder, elation and sheer horniness. 

They find themselves in an expensive bedroom with amazingly comfortable silk sheets and a gorgeous view of the Star City skyline. A bit of now, substantially less urgent fumbling by the bedside brings out a lovely strapon. They fight a bit over who gets to use it on who at first, but since hey, it’s Lena’s strap on, her rules, Maggie gives in like the gracious cunt she is. 

The ex-cop has no such compunctions about flipping the Luthor onto her back however. After all, Luthor is just too fucking pretty not to see with her hair all spread out and mussed across the sheets. Plus, when Maggie grabs her wrists tightly and shoves herself down onto Lena’s strapped cock the whiny noises she makes are just too fucking _cute._ It takes a little while to find a comfortable rhythm in their tequila soaked haze, but when they find it, oh shit is it good. Maggie’s is vigorously slamming herself onto the strap on, fucking herself _hard_ with a great angle on her gspot. After some experimentation she manages to also grind the strap on down straight into Lena’s clit, because she’s just awesome like that. This all has the CEO writhing and whimpering below her in the absolute _best_ way, so Maggie is even more smug than usual. 

Plus, hey, the whole time Lena’s wandering mouth is biting and exploring Maggie like the woman is on a damn mission.Which is totally hot as hell. 

As you might imagine the night ends fairly...explosively not too long after that. Cleaning up seems like far, far too much work so Maggie and Lena just happily pass out cuddled up to each other. Warm, happy and _very_ satisfied. 

Life is perfect, just for one night.


	3. The One Night Stand that Wasn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afterglow from Maggie and Lena's night out.
> 
> Oh,also, Kara makes her first appearance

Waking up after her latest rather boozy one-night stand was...something of a surprise for Lena. 

Of course, she felt the usual sense of nausea and pounding headache that was absolutely emblematic of bad decisions made the night before. Which...wasn’t quite as bad as it could have been, so she thought that was pretty nice. Lena was, after all, _extremely_ familiar with that sensation. The CEO may always be hesitant to admit to any such failing(“Don’t let them see you cry Lena, Luthors are above such weakness.”) but privately she was a big enough girl to admit she hadn’t been handling things quite as well as she could. The passed out anonymous woman in her bed and the pounding headache was par for the course. Drinking away her feelings had basically been the game plan for the last several months.

Though the CEO vaguely remembered some friend or other of her newest bedmate shoving a bunch of water down their throats to stave off the worst of it, which would explain why she doesn’t quite feel like death warmed over. Friends are nice. 

It’s only of course, when she actually looks down and takes in the muscled shoulders of the woman that she starts to remember flashes of the night before. Luckily they seemed to be able to stay juuuust shy of blacking out, so she thinks she gets most of what happened. It’s a bit hazy and dreamlike though. In sort of the best, happy fever dream way actually. In the cold light of day the Luthor found it hard to reconcile how...free and unencumbered she was acting last night. She remembers talking about...so many fucking things. Hell, she’s almost never even close to that emotionally available. Even counting Sam, who is basically her only friend at this point.

...it was kinda nice actually. Not that she’d ever say it out loud. 

Fuck, she should probably get a therapist or something. Not that she’d actually be comfortable talking to them, but they say it works. 

Maybe she just needs a friend or two instead. Sam is great and awesome, and has proved herself over and over again. She of course had been the one to point Lena towards a couple of good suggestions for places to “destress” in Star City. Lena remembered being a little dubious about some of the recommendations, but from everything she’s remembering, it seemed like Roxanne’s worked out pretty well, so yeah. Friends are definitely nice. 

Much less nice is her stupid fucking brain. Which, of fucking course, can’t just chill in the afterglow of an amazing one night stand and desperately pray for the sun stop poking through the curtains and searing her poor eyeballs. No, no, no, it has to beat the drums of an unfortunate battle between embarrassment and panic. 

Some small, stupid part of her brain started to run damage control. Planning what to do if her bed partner goes to the paparazzi. Worrying about how much baggage she spilled. Considering what’s the best way she can sell her “fun, relatable” image to the board of L-Corp so they stop threatening to have her replaced. What arguments could at all start to convince her pigheaded board that she is _in fact_ competent at her job after a small slip up. What are the metrics for this quarter like? How has PR been lately? How can she just make them _see_ how stupid and hypocritical they are without hanging them out a window by their ankles, because thats a felony. She’d look awful in prison orange. 

God, it’s frustrating though. She knows how bad the drug and/or adultery habits most of them have is. It’s just because, as a young, gay woman, any perceived fault is gets blown up so much bigger that they even care. 

As her brain started spinning into full gear, her breath unconsciously picked up into panicked gasps of hyperventilation. Even the small voice in her head reminding her she hasn’t been at L-Corp for awhile and her new company isn’t public yet so she doesn’t even have a board to answer to doesn’t help. Energy was sparking under her skin and she just needed to get up and _plan._ She knew early aggressive action pays off in these situations. She needed to get ahead of the narrative. That’s it, that’s definitely it!

Of course, her bedmate chose that lovely moment to sleepily grumple awake from her position passed out on Lena’s shoulder. A warm nose nuzzled up into Lena’s naked shoulder and strong arms wrapped around her chest. A familiar face came into view and Lena jerked, surprised in her grip. 

Maggie. 

Right. Maggie was the one night stand. The pretty, funny, caring, perfect one night stand. 

Maggie’s safe. Probably. She’s never had a negative experience with her before. Well barring her arresting her, but that was due to doctored video evidence. Maggie’s not going to betray her. Probably. Maggie did sort of lie to her by omission about Kara, but as Lena vaguely recalls, they talked a lot of that out last night. She doesn’t...think she’s mad at her or the superfriends anymore? Certainly she’s not sanguine enough to actually go slinking back to Kara and apologize though. That burned bridge is probably irreparable at this point. She thinks she can...very tentatively trust at least one of them though. 

A finger flicked her nose painfully. Lena startled and her gaze snapped over to Maggie’s tired but still unfairly dimpled mug. Her nose is scrunched up in an annoyed pout in the cutest way so Lena just...stares. 

“You’re thinking too damn hard too damn early Luthor. It’s fine. Chill the fuck out and cuddle.” The ex-cop gruffed out, her voice gravelly and horse from a long night out. 

“Lena. My friends call me Lena.” The ceo replied softly before she could think too hard about it. At the same time though, she gave out a little annoyed huff and tugged the other woman closer. She’d give Maggie this one, she _was_ thinking to hard.

A big, wide smile and happy groan was her only response. 

Which, well, that more or less sets the tone for the rest of the morning. The two women seemed to somehow stick in the pocket of this perfect moment of suspended animation. Where nothing more remarkable than a fantastic party and some hot sex had happened last night. Where the two have no complicated history beyond people who happen to enjoy each other's company. 

For once in a blue moon, whoever Lena had a drunken one-night stand with doesn’t go running the absolute second they are awake. There’s no panic inducing moment where you can clearly see the light go off in their eyes as they realize who in fact “just Lena” is. No mounting disgust and hasty excuses. No greedy dollar signs going off under the surface. Just...warmth and care. 

It’s nice. Really nice. 

There’s warm cuddles beneath silky sheets. Lingering looks as they both slink off to the bathroom one after the other. Slow kisses that smolder with warmth as they end up showering together in Lena’s giant bathroom. Teasing hands as they barrel into the open concept kitchen in two of Lena’s short bathrobes. 

With her bedmate not running off the second she sees Lena’s face, the CEO is given the welcome treat of prepping a nice healthy breakfast for the pair. With giant mugs of her favorite dark roasted coffee. She ends up prepping some artisanal whole wheat oatmeal absolutely smothering in thick honey and fresh fruit. Lena loves the warm glow thumping away in her chest as Maggie carefully watches her bounce around the kitchen, smiling the whole time. Loves the way the glow kindles yet higher at the absolutely obscene moans of delight Maggie makes over the whole concoction. It’s really such a simple thing, but she’s so glad the woman likes it, and it’s the perfect start to her day. 

...Okay, sue her. She has a bit of a _thing_ for pampering her partners alright? It doesn’t have to mean anything. It just feels good. Lena likes when people are happy. So what if its a little extra.There’s no law forbidding that.

There is however a bit of an awkward unfortunate moment when Maggie is finally dressed and by the door ready to leave. Both of them just sort of...stare at each other with frowns on their faces. They’ve hugged and said their goodbyes already. Gushed about how much fun they’ve had and how great it was to catch up again. Neither wants to acknowledge the truth they both know. This...insane, perfect storm of luck and drunk derring-do is probably never going to happen again.

This is, after all, just a one night stand. They both know that and didn’t go into this expecting or wanting anything else. 

“Hey...Lena?” Maggie eventually whispered, a sad frown on her face. 

“Yeah?” Lena replied, shuffling awkwardly on the rich carpet.

“I just...I had fun. A lot of fun. More fun that I can remember having in...well, years actually.” The ex-cop said hesitantly, worrying her lovely lips under her teeth. 

“Yeah. Yeah me too. It was fun while it lasted.” The CEO couldn’t help but reply, her voice hoarse and tight. 

“Well, I mean. I just… What I want to say…” Maggie kept trying to say, before eventually cutting herself off in a low growl of impotent frustration. After a second the shorter woman took a deep breath and squared her shoulders challengingly. 

“Look. I’ll be... I’m at Roxanne’s every friday, just y’know. If you’re in the area or whatever.” Maggie said grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Lena challengingly. As if daring her to make some sort of teasing comment.

Lena felt a genuine, surprised and pleased smile bloom across her features. 

“Yeah? I’ll...I guess it’s not too far to walk. I might be there, y’know. If I happen to be in the area. ” Lena hedged, barely resisting the urge to tap her nails against her leg. 

Maggie brightened, grinned, kissed Lena soundly and then flounced out the door.

* * *

From there on, things just kinda...snowballed forward in the way things do. They both chronically avoided talking about this _thing_ between them. Instead, Lena made a point to absolutely and completely free up her Friday night schedule...for no particular reason of course. 

Who woulda thunk it, it just so happens that she’s feeling cocktails on her newly free Friday evening. I mean, who wouldn’t really? Plus, the bartender at Roxanne’s had a whole list of experimental concoctions she’d been excited to try last time. It’s just natural that Lena would happen to wind up across from Maggie in a booth at 7pm with a stiff drink in front of her. 

Their night on the town goes swell again. Though, they end up at a vegan pizza joint for food after the bar instead. The sex is pretty great too, especially since Lena gets to pound her strap on into the other woman’s ass this time. With many adorable ‘I wanna top next time’ grumbles from Maggie.

They part ways in the morning again, totally casually, not expecting anything. It’s not like they’re really dating or anything. Just some vague friends who happened to be in the same bar on a Friday night. 

It happens again the week after that. 

Then the week after that. 

Then Lena has something come up at work, so she leaves a message at Maggie’s work with her phone number and lets her know she’ll be going out Saturday instead. 

Well, then it’s only natural to chat throughout the week. They have each other’s numbers after all. It’s not like it's a big _thing_ or anything. Plus, wouldn’t you know it too, there’s all sorts of cool new restaurants opening up around town. It just so happens that neither woman has had the chance to explore many of them, because most of their friends are in other cities. It’s just awkward to go to a sit down restaurant by yourself. 

So, of _course_ it just makes sense to grab a quick bite to eat together before they inevitably end up at Roxanne’s together. Which becomes a nice new part of the routine. 

Then a few weeks later Lena has this office social party thing, and she’d feel pretty pathetic going by herself. So of course she vents to Maggie, who happens to be free that night anyways. It just makes sense really that they go as friends. Who else would she bring? Sam? Sam’s back in National City trying to contain the fallout of Lex taking over L-Corp. Plus she has Ruby to look after and super-powered teens need their beauty sleep. 

Maggie and Lena may or may not end up fucking in the large private bathroom Lena has in her office afterwards. No comment. 

...Lena would like it noted that Maggie looks _unfairly_ hot in a tight black suit and deep navy shirt. Also, ties should be fucking illegal. Especially since they are so bloody useful as improvised restraints. 

Somebody could get hurt after all (in the best way, with a strong hand turning pale asscheeks a lovely shade of pink). 

Somehow, they end up kind-of, sort-of, dating but not really dating because neither wants to really talk about _feelings._ Those dangerous, dangerous fee-fees don’t exist if you don’t acknowledge them after all. 

...right?

* * *

This holding pattern between Lena and Maggie lasts for a good month more before the next _thing_ inevitably comes along to fuck shit up and flip the table.

It starts pretty quietly. 

Lena and Maggie are out together getting coffee on a chilly Saturday afternoon. It’s not a big _thing_ , or groundbreaking or even all that new. It doesn’t mean anything. Maggie just got somewhat addicted to the fancy coffee blends Lena always seems to find. Of _course_ it just makes sense for Lena to show Maggie around to a couple of her favorite cafes that supply them. That’s just efficiency. Maggie needs to know where the best coffee in the city is after all.

If the pair is having a very lovely chat and playing a bit of footsie under the table, well, nobody is going to call them on it. They are two grown, just friends, women out on the town and hanging out. There’s nothing wrong with that. The cafe is full, but not too full, the music is lively and the coffee is _excellent_

Then there’s a fateful cry from across the room. 

“Hey, hey, turn that up! What the fuck!”

Murmurs and whispering echo through the enclosed space. Maggie and Lena stiffen,still on guiard from their respective lifetimes of paranoia. Without being too obvious about it, both women shift their heads around, trying to see what all the commotion is about. What immediately stands out is a growing group of 20 somethings clustered by the bar watching a TV hung up playing baseball. Which, well, is entirely normal, so it’s somewhat confusing what’s causing all the hubbub for a few moments. 

Then Lena’s eyes manage to actually read the news ticker going by the bottom. 

“Breaking News: SuperGirl Retiring. Leaked Catco Memo Shows Hero Gives Notice!”

The CEO feels her heart jump a beat and her breath catches in her throat. Her hands feel sweaty, and there’s the weirdest ringing sound in her ears. Some vicious, underhanded little cockle of her heart immediately starts cackling in vindicated glee. Another aching void starts _worrying._

How long had it been since she dumped Kara from her life like hot garbage? What had she even said in the end there? Lena wasn’t exactly thinking straight following Kara’s confession, and has a hard time remembering exactly what venom she threw at the poor girl. She knows herself though, and she knows the viciousness that being a Luthor beat into her, so she knows whatever it was cut like a knife. She also knows that prior to their fight, Kara and Lena were practically best friends, despite all the secrets. 

She knows Kara. Sweet, lonely, uniquely good Kara. She would have been _devastated._ It’s probably been a few months sure...but this sort of decision isn’t just some spur of the moment thing. 

...did she cause this? 

Her breathing picks back up, vaults over hyperventilation straight into panicked overload. Stars are shooting across the corners of her eyes and things are slowly going black. She just...she just can’t have fucked up this bad! She just couldn’t have ruined the literal paragon of truth and justice. That’s too much. She’s just one woman. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that, on top of all her other myriad faults. 

It’s at around that moment that she feels Maggie flicking her nose, _hard_ to get her attention. After a startled yelp, she realizes the shorter woman’s arms are around her, holding her tight as the world seems to spin unsteadily around them. Her not-girlfriends husky voice whispers in her ear, that ever useful phrase that always calms her down “You're thinking too hard Lena.”

The CEO breaths, slowly, carefully, to get as much strength as possible together. 

Then she looks up at the TV again. The ballgame has been interrupted by a breaking report that goes live to a press conference. In short order,silky blonde curls over top of perfect skin and crystal blue eyes come into view. Supergirl stands before a podium with her back straight and chest puffed out defiantly. Daring the assembled reporters to make the first move. She’s the perfect picture of composed strength and elegance. All without losing that ever present hint of a smile that belies her simply _good_ nature. 

...Or at least, that’s the first impression. The longer Lena looks the more she realizes Kara looks _tired._ Compare to her normal, perfect, bouncy disposition, supergirl looks...like shit actually. 

Well, maybe that's a bit hyperbolous. Lena is well aware of how _unfair_ Kara’s kryptonian biology is. She never has bad skin days. Her hair is always bouncy, silky and perfect unless she’s just been in a fight. Her muscle tone is _ungodly_ when she isn’t hiding it under all those pastel cardigans. She is just...almost effortlessly perfect and beautiful every damn day of the week. 

For someone who knows all that however, the just barely visible darker circles under Kara eyes are easily visible. The steel in her spine isn’t nearly as rigged as it usually is. She’s stimming by tapping her fingers on the podium in a steady 1. 2. 3. beat that keeps getting faster, a sure sign that she’s barely coping with some sort of sensory overload (looking back on it, it seems fairly obvious, but Lena was half convinced Kara had some form of autism before she knew she had super senses). Plus, Kara’s going out into an important press conference with hair that obviously hasn’t been properly maintained for days if not weeks. It looks dry and split which...is just not a thing Kara’s hair is normally capable of. 

Hot, searing guilt stabs into Lena’s gut. 

Maggie hugs her tighter and whispers warm assurances in her ear. The guilt eases back a half step. 

Then a strange lilting voice starts emanating from staticy TV. It seems to echo in harmony, almost two tones at once. It sounded more like a church organ than a single voice. The CEO finds it beyond beautiful. Sublime is probably the best world that immediately comes to mind. Lena thinks it sounds strangely familiar until she realizes it’s coming from Kara. Sweet, kind Kara.

Kara who is an alien from a strange culture. Kara who grew up in an environment and culture entirely foreign to all human understanding. 

...Kara who always spoke in the strangest, most beautiful, unexplainable except for long minutes every time she had a nightmare when she was sleeping over at Lena’s place. 

“Before I start, I first want to address the rumours of my retirement. To be clear, despite the leaked story being sold to generate clicks, I have no plans to retire as Supergirl.” The voice begins, tone frustrated and accusatory. A series of much more human sounding inane questions are yelled, interrupting the speech from the stellar being holding court on national TV. 

The voice holder raises her hands for silence. It slowly comes. 

“However… as I gain more experience I have been reflecting on my methods and strategies for protecting the innocent and supporting the public good. I’ve heard many arguments, from many different perspectives, beliefs and traditions.” The voice holder continued, sounding a heartbreaking combination of sad, understanding and frustrated.

Lena absentmindedly realizes tears are running down her face. 

...Did she do this? 

Maggie kisses her gently on her cheek. The rising guilt stops for a short moment. 

“At this moment I’m announcing that I will be scaling back on many of my day to day duties. These include fighting petty crime, and helping with minor accidents. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. However, despite my powers I am not omnipotent. I’m not always perfect, nor do I have infinite time or resources. All I can do is my best with what I have available.” The voiceholder explained, giving, what Lena knew, was it’s best effort at keeping steady and confident. 

After all, it wouldn’t do for supergirl to ever sound out of control or less than confident. It’d cause a mass panic on the streets. 

The voice holder took a deep breath, and what was clearly a small sniff before continuing. 

“There are a number of projects I’m already engaged in to help the people of earth, but I will not be announcing all of them at this time. I do however, want to assure the public that if there is ever a major disaster or attack that the regular emergency responders cannot solve, I will be available at a moment's notice. I will not be taking further questions at this time. Thank you and good day.” The voice holder finished, it’s voice tight and _devastated._

A streak flew off into the sky on the TV. 

Maggie hugged her tighter. Lena hugged her back and turned to kiss her desperately. 

Was this _her_ fault?


	4. It's Not All About You

As one might imagine, the immediate aftermath after freaking Supergirl announces a partial retirement (or at least a dramatic scaling back of duties) was... fraught to say the least. Since they no longer lived in National City, Lena and Maggie were thankfully spared the worst of it. After all, it had a relatively minor impact on their city. Beyond the occasional fly by or team up, Supergirl rarely appeared in the skies of Star City. Plus, after Lena’s little panic attack in the middle of the coffee shop, they had swiftly holed up in Lena’s swanky apartment, turned off all electronic devices and drunk themselves into a stupor. 

There were tears, feelings, shouting, crying, cuddling, and eventually, exhausted ‘please I just need to feel happy for a few moments’ fucking.

The Monday morning after was...not much better. While the immediate fury and outrage from reactions had somewhat cooled, the morning news was _filled_ with whiny assholes yelling about aliens not ‘earning their keep.’ That they had to pay back the _generosity_ of the American taxpayers for welcoming them so completely into society. As if those same reactionaries hadn’t been calling for Supergirl's arrest and deportation for _years._ Even as time and time again she saved the world or did her best to fit into American society. As if they hadn’t been trying to systematically kill, cage, or dissect every new alien they could. 

Maggie’s jaw was clenched in impotent rage the whole time. Having worked with Kara extensively, she knew the blood sweat and tears that went into the job. Knew the cost it had on her family and herself. Knew how much she deserved a rest after years of faithful service. She didn’t even get the RnR between tours of duty like soldiers were supposed to either. Everybody has a breaking point, and Maggie was just surprised something like this hadn’t happened yet. 

Of course, Maggie’s frustration had nothing on the shout of rage snarling out of Lena when Lex sauntered onto National TV. His slimy charisma in full glow selling his faux disappointment and understanding. After all, he argued, wouldn’t Earth be better in the hands and protection of Earthlings. Poor weak alien minds just can’t handle making the hard calls needed to protect humanity. Sacrifices have to be made at some point. The illusion of perfection and consequence free heroism was of _course_ more dangerous to humanity. After all, if people didn’t take responsibility for their own lives, how would we ever make progress as a society. 

...Yeah, Maggie wisely chose change the channel after Lena’s glass of ‘fuck-it-it’s-9pm-somewhere’ scotch shattered against the wall and said woman collapsed into broken sobs. 

Some other reactions were, of course, more sympathetic, if very rarely full of actual understanding. There was the seeming unending series of human interest stories of the profound effect Supergirl had on the daily lives of citizens. It was frankly stunning how truly many people owed their lives and livelihoods to the blonde who had never really asked for anything in return. It floored the two women to realize just how much sincere care and worry people felt about how she was doing. About how much they admire Kara’s strength and conviction. How much of a fixture she was in the minds of everyday people. 

...about how very afraid they were now that the Super comfort blanket had been taken away. Please, oh please, they seemed to imply, could we just have it back now? Ha-ha-funny joke Supergirl, we need you!

Most, of course, probably didn’t mean anything hurtful about it. Fear was a perfectly reasonable reaction. For years the Supers had been more or less indomitable forces of nature that meant no situation was ever _truly_ hopeless. Tired, in pain, about to be killed in a freak accident? Well, she couldn’t save everyone, but there was always a chance (a damn good chance actually) that the blonde would drop whatever she was doing and save you. Staring down the gun of a robber? Supergirl was probably seconds away, so if you just kept him talking and bought yourself some time you’d be okay. She was a symbol of compassion, of strength, of goddamn _hope_ in the face of impossible odds.

Nothing was ever truly hopeless because Supergirl was likely on the way.

Now suddenly, people realized that she could bleed. That she likely had a life, family and people who care for her. That she had responsibilities and demands on her time outside of saving the city. That she was, essentially, human. With all the imperfections and fallibile foibles that entails. 

...Privately, Maggie likened it to a press conference for little kids where Santa came out on National TV, pulled off his fake beard and told the kids their parents put the presents under the tree. The collective naive ignorant bubble most of society was living in popped dramatically. 

All that was left was to decide what they could do to move forward now that a demi-god had been brought low. There were questions, oh so many questions. People wanted answers. Wanted surety. Wanted to know when Kara would be back. When the world could be made right again. When they could go back to _normal_ where everything was great and wonderful. 

Only, there was no going back to unscrew the pooch. Kara was essentially gone, and there were no silver coated words to make the hurt go away. 

Personally at least, Lena and Maggie went back and forth at least twice a day. Lena was predictably eating herself up inside worrying about how much of this was her fault. As much as Maggie tried to reassure her, she also didn’t want to lie to Lena. While she highly doubted that Kara would quit being Supergirl over a nasty fight with one friend, she also knew how much the superhero relied on Lena to keep herself grounded. It was undeniable their split had, at least, left Kara partially less able to cope with whatever stress actually broke the camel's back. 

As Maggie explained and reassured repeatedly, she personally their friend break up was probably one of Kara’s smaller worries.

No.

This had Alex stamped all over it. 

The detective wasn’t even close to clear on the actual dynamic at play, but there was only ever really one button that could cause Kara to completely fall apart. The foster sister she so dearly clung to, the largest part of the small set of stable people that had never abandoned her for any reason when she came to earth. If it came down to it for some reason, Maggie knew that Kara would practically gut herself to make sure Alex was happy and healthy. If, for some reason, Alex laid down the law (perhaps over some serious threat to Kara’s life or something) Kara might, _might_ concede. However, if it was something really important to the blonde, if lives were on the line, she did often stand up to Alex. Kara would have fought _hard_ to stay working as Supergirl. 

Which...unfortunately led to several much worse interpretations. If... if Alex was hurt or...y’know. Not around anymore? For..whatever reason? If that injury had something to do with humanities seeming need to assert that Kara didn’t belong and wasn’t welcome? 

Fuck. 

Maggie could see how that could lead to Kara drawing back and retiring. 

Neither Lena or Maggiew were quite sure what to make of what they’d deduced. Both vacillated widely back and forth. As...strained as their relationships were to their respective Danvers sisters were, they both still cared about them. Alex might be Maggie’s ex, but she wasn’t heartless. She’d want to know if the redhead had ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. It had been a big worry during their relationship for both of them. Especially once Maggie started helping out a bit on cases and occasionally got into situations with alien compatants she was not equipped to deal with. 

The ex-cop knew there was a damn good chance she’d probably already missed the funeral if the worst had happened. Who would have thought to call the ex they hadn’t heard from in years in the middle of their grief? She just...would really rather _know_ instead of wondering ‘what if?’ A small, despondent part of her also wondered if there might be any tykes now looking for a new home. Alex did, of course, want terribly to be a mother. It’s what broke them up. Maggie couldn’t say whether she felt more sick thinking she’d died without ever accomplishing the dream, or if she did just after leaving her kids orphans. They hadn’t split long enough ago for a possible kid to have even started school yet. She just…

Didn’t want to think of Alex’s kids getting put in the system. Or Kara throwing out her dreams and goals to take care of them. If there was ever a reason to retire as Supergirl, a couple of vulnerable kids would be it. 

Lena on the other hand…

Well, she might not be particularly mad at Kara anymore, but she also couldn’t help but feel hurt. The lack of trust had made her wonder if they really were as close friends as she thought they were. Maggie assured her that Kara practically worshipped the ground Lena walked on but… well, niggling, vicious little voices in one’s head were hard to silence. Lena never had been a paragon of self-esteem and the whole _thing_ had kicked her while she was down. Even lacking the anger, the CEO just...couldn’t decide whether or not it was worth it to put on her big girl panties and call Kara to see if she was alright. Every few hours her worry for the blonde would get bad enough that she’d pick up the phone and have the number half dialled...only to drop it again a second later. 

Would Kara even want to hear from her after all this time? After the CEO had practically ripped out her heart? After all the venom she’d spewed? Would she just be adding to the clearly crushing burdens Kara faced everyday as Supergirl? Just one more thing to manage. One more person to try and appease? She couldn’t stand it if Kara ended up just putting up with her. If she didn’t actually want Lena around. If she didn’t actually trust Lena. The pure, unadulterated fear bubbling away in her veins was crippling. 

Kara hadn’t, after all, even tried to reach out after their fight. Kara probably could have gotten one of her hacker friends to find Lena’s new number. Lena was mostly convinced that Kara had completely given up on her. 

...Needless to say, procrastinating about painful but necessary phone calls became a favorite hobby of both women. 

For the next week they spent basically every evening camped out together at one of their apartments or the other. Each tried to comfort the other. Each failed miserably. Each switched between obsessively checking the news for non-existent updates and just trying to bury their heads in the sand. They were...stuck. 

Still, they had to know. 

Maggie was the first to break. They’d both been sitting side by side on the ratty old couch in Maggie’s apartment. Neither were really paying attention to the 9-o’clock news playing on the TV. They were both staring at their phones laid out on the coffee table in front of them, trying to work up the gumption to actually pick it up and dial. 

It took three heartstopping calls to an old number before Maggie got through. 

“This is Danvers.” A gruff, tired, distracted but still thankfully _okay_ voice crackled through Maggie’s phone. Which, well, Maggie let out a deep, relieved breath at that. Worst case scenario wasn’t on the table. Good. Yes. Fuck. It’d been so long since she’d heard Alex’s familiar and comfortably grouchy voice.

Words escaped her though. How the fuck are you supposed to call your ex out of the blue and ask “Hey I saw your sister on the TV, are you dead?” She really, really, thinks she should have gotten a better opening line in her brain before she just smashed her finger on the call button. 

“Who is this? How did you get this number?” Alex barked out gruffly, now seeming to pay more direct attention. 

Which, well, right, words are needed. Words to figure out this mess. 

“A-Alex?” Maggie said softly. 

“Maggie?!” Alex shouted back in surprise and excitement, making the ex-cop wince and pull the phone back from her ear just a smidge. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah, it’s me.” The ex-cop replied, feeling the ghost of a nostalgic but nervous smile ghost her face. Dimly she felt Lena shift to press her warm body up against her side, so she gave the CEO’s knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“Um, okay. Yeah. Right. Would you uh, why did you call?” Alex said, stumbling over her words in that adorable awkward nerd cadence she had always tried to pretend she didn’t have. 

“Well, I was just, you know, with the news out of National City going crazy and all. I was just, uh, wondering how you were doing with you know, everything.” Maggie replied, idly massaging Lena’s thigh with her free hand. 

Fuck. This was awkward. Why was this so awkward. Why can’t a lady call up her possibly dead ex and not have it be awkward. _Fuck._

“Awww, are you worried about me now the girl of steel is off duty Sawyer?” Came a teasing, pleased voice out of the speaker. Maggie could practically see the fucking shit eating grin the secret agent must have been flashing her. 

Brat. 

A long hollow part somewhere in Maggie’s heart _ached_ at the echo of casual competitiveness she used to have with her. 

“Sue me why don’t you? We may not have worked as a couple, but I still care about you alright? I don’t- I was just a bit worried. It’s not a big _thing._ ” Maggie said, huffing petulantly. A quick glance over to Lena revealed the deeply amused smirk on her face. Fuck, the CEO was pretty. Also, she was a _bitch_ who was rapidly coming to know all of Maggie’s eccentricities and buttons. Her whole _thing_ about _things_ and _feelings._

Despite the fear that thought and it’s accompanying feelings brings, Maggie can’t help but be happy about how things are playing out between them. 

There was a brief moment of startled silence on the phone. 

“Uh, Yeah, alright fair. I uh, I care about you too. It’s been...well it’s been a bit busier around here. I’ve had to pull some overtime that my fiance Kelly is not at _all_ happy about, but y’know, we are getting by.” Alex started explaining a bit hesitantly. Maggie felt a bit of a tang of sourness at the mention of a new fiance, but honestly...it had been years at this point. It was more awkward than anything else, and not even for a really good reason. 

Still, with how not at all stressed or worried Alex sounded, Maggie felt a bit more confused and hopeful. If something hadn’t gone wrong with Alex, what happened to Kara? 

“-know, it’s just a bit of an annoying situation. I mean, I probably shouldn’t say too much, cause, classified government organization, but we didn’t really get any warning. Real nice of Supergirl. Real nice. I’m starting to see why the Colonel has such a bee up her bonnet about her, honestly.” Alex continued on. Her annoyed growl served to snap Maggie back to attention after the ex-cop had zoned out thinking. Which after a moment to mentally catch up in the conversation...didn’t really make much sense. Something about how the leaked article came out before the agency had even gotten official notice from the Superheroine and how annoying that was. 

“What do you mean? How’s Kara? What happened to her? ” Maggie asked, honestly scratching her head. A glance over to Lena showed the CEO staring at her in wide-eyed astonishment. 

“Why are you bringing up Kara? She’s fine to my knowledge. Still working away at Catco last I heard, trying for that pulitzer. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, but I’ll see her at Christmas. Just like normal.” Alex queried, her voice going high with a snort of amusement like she heard a weird non-sequitur. 

Maggie felt herself pale, turning to face Lena with her jaw practically hanging on the floor. The CEO wasn’t looking too much better either. 

“And that's...normal?” Maggie whispered, her tone incredulous.

“Yeah? I mean, of course, we haven’t been as close as we were in college since her job at Catco really started to pick up, but that’s pretty normal for the last few years. Why, what’s up?” Alex replied, her tone full of exasperation. As if Maggie’s confusion was just this incredibly weird, out of character quirk. 

Maggie cursed under her breath. 

“Oh nothing, just thought you were a bit closer than that is all. I was a bit worried you were stressing about how she was handling the whole thing is all. I remember how much of a mother hen you could be at times.” Maggie said, trying to keep the shock, panic, and utter terror from her tone. 

Based on the sharp look Lena sent her, along with the subtle tremble she noticed in her fingers, Maggie wasn’t doing the best of jobs. 

“Oh, well, I might like to be, but we are both just such busy people. You know, the DEO is always kicking my ass, and life as a star reporter barely lets her sleep. We text every couple weeks and catch up. I’ll call her though, let her know you're worried. She’ll be touched.” Alex replied, her voice practically smiling. Maggie couldn’t help but let out a hum of agreement. 

Clearly, whatever else had happened, the Danvers sisters still loved each other. It’s just that something...else had happened

“Look, uh, I’m late for dinner with Kelly, I’m gonna have to let you go. It was...nice chatting to you though. Good to know you're still kicking around out there.” Alex hurriedly said, breaking the moment. Maggie sucked in a startled gasp. 

“Good to talk to you as well. Don’t be a stranger.” Maggie replied before the line abruptly cut off. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Lena spat out, jumping to her feet to begin pacing back and forth. Maggie wrung her hands once before following her up and wrapping her arms around the CEO’s trembling shoulders. As if a light switch was hit, the brunette spun around in her arms and clung desperately to her. 

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Maggie replied, humming soothingly and running her hands up and down the soft skin of Lena’s arms. 

“Something must have happened. That’s...that's not normal. Kara and Alex were inseparably close. That’s just...that’s just not possible.” Lena spat out, her voice halfway between a hiss and a wail.

“No. No that’s not normal. Something must have happened.” Maggie said, mentally counting the I-told-you-so even if she’d never say it out loud to a clearly panicking Lena. 

She’s a detective after all. She detects...and keeps from poking the bear when at all possible. 

In a rush Lena spun back around to snatch up her phone. Without giving herself a single second more to hesitate the woman tapped in Kara’s old phone number and hit dial.

It rung. 

-and rung.

-and rung.

-and rung until Kara’s cheery answering message turned on. 

Not wasting a second Lena hung up and dialed again.

-and again. 

-and again. 

-and again. 

“Fuck.”


	5. Flotsam Always Washes Ashore Somewhere

So, yeah, Lena is totally not _freaking_ out. She’s a calm, collected, logical, thoughtful CEO. She can...yeah she can deal with the whole “my ex-best friend has pulled a disappearing act after her sister maybe-kinda-has-amnesia” _thing._ It’s...well, it’s not fine, but she’ll cope because of course she will. She’s Lena goddamn Luthor. 

(Wipe your tears Lena. Luthors are iron, elevated above the common mud)

Using all her vaunted powers of deductive reasoning, intuiting the path forward to resolve these...fleeting troubles is clear. Very clear. No doubt about it. 

...She doesn’t _really_ want to call any of the superfriends though. She was never nearly as close with them as she was with Kara. She only has so much social energy alright? She knows herself enough to realize she doesn’t really have the gumption to spend on reconciling with anyone but Kara right now. The thought of talking to someone else who’d hurt her, opening up to them again, being emotionally _vulnerable_ well…

It feels like nails on a chalkboard. 

So, of course, she decides to find Kara on her own as much as possible. She’s totally fine. She’s an incredibly smart, connected, talented woman. Finding one recalcitrant, probably depressed, likely at least some degree of self-destructive friend is a task she will _crush_ like any other obstacle in her path. 

The obvious next step involves some _light_ facebook stalking. However, all that ends up suggesting is that Kara hasn’t been posting much on any of her online accounts for weeks now. So, clearly, this was not some spur of the moment thing. No, this had been some long, slow, systemic grind where Kara completely uprooted her life. 

That’s...fine. Totally, not at all worrying. A minor road bump. 

The second step is also pretty obvious. Some lowkey, more or less (less, definitely less) legal hacking cracks into some internal Catco memos to see how she’s doing at work. Apparently Kara has taken a brief leave of absence to explore some exciting personal development opportunities. Which are helpfully left vague and unnamed. 

Just a setback, its totally _fine._

Of course, then some _slightly_ more illegal hacking (that causes Maggie to raise an amused but understanding eyebrow at her) reveals that Kara’s lease expired around when she took the leave of absence. So, yeah, totally, Kara moved somewhere else, probably got some nice, cushy new job that she wanted to explore further. Right. Yes. That’s it.

It’s not like it sounds exactly like her ex best friend just up and quit her job and nuked her life to go live in a yurt somewhere in the woods. That would be illogical catastrophizing. 

Que one teensy, weensy, totally unnoticeable _minor_ panic attack. She’s fine, alright. Totally fine and capable of solving this. 

...Yes Maggie, she would definitely, really like a hug. 

Has Lena mentioned recently how amazing, perfect and wonderful Maggie is? It really could stand to be repeated. 

So, in the ultimate wing-woman move, Maggie ponies up to calling Winn and James. A move which ends up saving Lena from another _minor_ panic attack thinking about having to get in touch with the superfriends now that most of her options have run dry. . 

Unfortunately...they are less than helpful. 

Apparently Kara had assured them she was okay, but had some things to take care off. She’d expressed in great detail how she wanted to take a step back and get her head on straight again. Who knows when she’ll be back from who knows where. It’s fine, Kara had assured, don’t worry about her. She’s Supergirl! Over the course of the call it becomes clear that neither man seems particularly worried, though there is a bit of mixed curiosity and concern in Winn’s tone.

Yeaaaaaah, Lena can practically smell the bullshit from across the bay. Stupid, unobservant, meatheaded men, she huffs. In that moment, she firmly reaffirmed her blossoming decision to date only women for the foreseeable future. 

Sweet, stupid, self sacrificing Kara is entirely too predictable in times like this. Despite all the secrets and lies, Lena is still reasonably confident she knows the blonde like the back of her hand. Knows that this is exactly the sort of “I’m sad, so I’ll lick my wounds in a quiet corner like an injured golden retriever” stoic bullshit move she’d pull. All it’s missing is her throwing herself in front of a kryptonite coated bus to save some endangered alien snail from being slightly sad for it to be a normal Tuesday occurrence. There is absolutely no goddamn universe where Kara is even resembling okay.

So yeah, at this point Lena’s basically exhausted the extent of her and Maggie’s deductive reasoning skills. If she was willing to commit a whole host more felonies, she’d maybe consider hacking airplane records to at least try and guess where in the bloody world Kara ended up. Only, you know, she’s fucking Supergirl. Chances are pretty fucking good she just flew there. Some idle part of her considers trying to hack into Superman’s ice fortress palace thing, but that _probably_ wouldn’t go over too well. She does _not_ need the man of steel punting her into the sun for making is baby cousin sad.

Assuming he actually cares enough about her to keep in touch. Now that she knows about y’know the whole Supergirl _thing_ it does put a fel memories into a whole other light. Suddenly all those quiet, late night whispered conversations about how sad it made Kara to have lost touch with her only biological cousin take on a _whole_ new light. 

At that point Lena shoots a glare towards her wonderful, lovely, brat of a girlfriend trying to relieve the tension by cracking a truly awful series of jokes. No it does not relieve Lena that Kara could, in fact, be in some sort of alternate dimension, because of course bloody multiverse theory is bloody real and nobody told her. Of bloody course. 

How is this her _life_ , the CEO moans. 

Now that all's said and done, both Lena and Maggie are reasonably certain of a couple things. 

Alex likely has some form of amnesia.  
Kara has very, very, effectively disappeared in very, very dramatic fashion.  
Kara is very, very, very far from okay.  
They seem to be the only ones to be particularly concerned about this fact. 

Which, while it’s all well and good that they’ve now got a fairly good understanding of the situation, they really have no ways forward. Shit is just...fucked. To some extent it really _shouldn’t_ be their responsibility to look out for the blonde. After all, neither of them are key players in her life anymore. Sure, they both care about her, want the best for her, want her to be okay, safe and happy...but really it’s Alex and the Superfriends who are poised to help. 

...and it’s Alex who is somehow incapacitated, and the Superfriends who are just garden variety useless. 

Lacking other effective options Lena and Maggie end up on the couch, pissed off their asses and passed out after a truly aggressive series of cuddles.

* * *

Despite the rather dark clouds that hung both metaphorically and physically over the rainy city, life moved on. After all, Lena and Maggie had day jobs that were both important to them and necessary. They, at least, couldn’t afford to hare off into the wild blue yonder to chase after their wayward friend, despite how much Lena kinda wanted to. Plus, even days later they really had no idea where the hell she ended up. Despite Lena basically calling in any favor she could think of that wouldn’t raise any of the wrong sorts of eyebrows. 

After all, Lex was still kicking around with damned near presidential immunity at this point. Lena did _not_ want him to get wind of her even trying to reconcile with Kara. Knowing him, he’d take it as some sort of personal attack and start up the whole assasination/ kidnapping attempt rodeo again. Throwing all that back on top of Supergirl’s clearly overburdened shoulders did not seem like a helpful friend thing to do.

...Come to think of it, the Lex issue may actually be part of the whole disappearing act. Who knows what he’d do with the knowledge of who and where Supergirl was. Perhaps that had something to do with why Kara Danvers had all but disappeared without even telling her friends and family where she’d gone. Maybe she thought that now they wouldn’t be targets. 

Not that Lena could do anything with that knowledge of course. 

So, like all adults must in these sorts of situations...Maggie and Lena eventually just went back to the day to day grind of work. They still kept on showing up at each other’s houses to hang out, have dinner, fuck and just be around good company. They were still kinda sorta not dating but actually dating. They still had their date nights. Only now, when they had a free moment here or there, they’d try another new unlikely way to find Kara...to not much success. Maggie even still kept in touch with some of the Superfriends just in case. Though they really didn’t hear much. 

After a week or so Kara had apparently sent Winn a vague “still alive, don’t worry” text, so that was something at least. Plus there had actually been a few one off Supergirl sightings. The next week there was some sort of catastrophic mudslide in Nepal that she’d been evacuating victims from for a few days. She’d also been seen periodically in a couple of countries dismantling old world war 2 landmines. One week Supergirl was apparently airlifting humanitarian supplies into a couple of drought ridden areas. It seemed the girl of steel was on something of a world tour. Acting less as National City’s unofficial police muscle, and more as a symbol of succor to the desperate and needy world-wide. 

...Unfortunately, the only time she was actually seen in the states was to put out a few out of control wildfires in California one afternoon, so there was absolutely no chance to connect with her. 

It was...a long month or two, but it passed. 

Day to day, Lena rationally knew she didn’t have anything in particular to complain about. Her new startup company had been slowly ramping up research. While she was still incredibly busy as the CEO, she made sure to delegate a bit more than she used to. After all, the only people she hired were people she was reasonably certain she could trust. Whereas at L-Corp there was an even 50/50 that any remaining employee was still loyal to Lex. Plus, they hadn’t gone public yet and were mostly financed by Lena personally. There were relatively few meetings where she as the CEO needed to wine and dine potential investors. 

All of which gave time for Lena to actually work in the labs day to day. Everyday brought them closer and closer to a few key patents for new medical devices and green energy. The work was tough, but incredibly rewarding as Lena could actually see as her team got progressively closer to making some truly groundbreaking strides forward. She knew _exactly_ what L-Corp had coming down the pipes next year. So, she’d greenlit a whole host of innovative new designs that the Lex sympathetic L-Corp board would have _never_ considered funding. After all, why shoot for high-quality, low-cost, mass market designs when one can price gouge for maximum short term profits. Everything Lena was making would leapfrog their competition in quality and yet also be sold at _half_ the price. She was even making a point to quickly expand to a series of underserved markets around the world, a move which the American-centric L-Corp would have never agreed to. 

Lena was going to undercut, outsell, outdo and emasculate Lex so _hard_ his stupid little psychotic balls would shrivel up and die in embarrasment. That’ll show him, the fucking prick. 

...Shut up Maggie! I know I have a stupid irish temper. Stop laughing at me! Fuck off, it’s not cute! It’s ferocious and awe inspiring! Men fear me, women want to be with me! That’s it, get on your damn knees brat!

Ahem.

Then one Friday night Maggie and Lena decide to go to dinner at the cool new gastropub that opened up outside the local Star Labs office and the status quo got blown to hell. 

Should’ve guessed something was up with a name like ‘The Drake Equation’ even if the yelp reviews were amazing.

* * *

Lena stepped into the restaurant a half step behind Maggie. Glancing around, she saw the walls were absolutely covered in an eclectic mishmash of different paintings, prints and small art pieces. Apparently from a variety of new and amateur artists, with little price tags at the bottom if the diner was interested in taking one home. The couple waited a bit awkwardly for the server to look up from leaning over the bar and chatting with a couple of blonde women. Lena herself wasn’t the biggest follower of the art world. However, fundraising at L-Corp had almost always come from schmoozing at some upscale entertainment or other. Art galleries were always popular, so she’d started to develop something of an eye. With vague interest she started taking a closer look at some of the paintings. 

A couple oil landscapes of forests and lakes seemed to fit the rather rustic fittings pretty well. Hipster pubs loved their cement floors and exposed structural beams after all. Others were more abstract, often filled with bold reds, silvers and golds of seemingly alien cities, spaceships and skylines. Here and there were even a bunch of eye-catching pieces of pop art. In-fact, an entire wall was devoted to prints of genderbent, queer or just plain crossdressing superheroes hanging out, making out, or just plain existing day to day. A particularly enthralling scene by the washroom had Lena giggling over its depiction of a gorilla-esque Frank Miller style batman bent over Superman’s knee while wearing bright red stockings under his batsuit. 

What really made Lena’s heart clench though was a beautiful oil canvas skyline hung over the door. It was wickedly detailed, almost photographic in its obsessive attention to detail of what had to be the National City skyline. Only, instead of being taken from a convenient rooftop perspective, it was aerial, almost as if from a flying drone. There was a palpable sense of loneliness as the viewer looked down on the shining towers of the city. Each building was filled with an incredible number of details the closer you looked. Almost every close window had at least one person making coffee, or working a photocopier, having a meeting or otherwise just going about their everyday life. 

...All as the viewer hung in silence, isolated, removed from the flow as a pair of burnt but recognizable red boots hovered at the end of bruised legs hundreds of feet above the ground. 

Whoever K. Z. El. (K) was, Lena was impressed. A glance around showed they were even pretty prolific. It seemed like somewhere around a quarter of the art on the walls was from them in some way or another. Something that was especially interesting, since instead of sitting in a comfortable artistic niche they seemed to flit almost absentmindedly through a wide array of styles and mediums. 

Luckily though, just as Lena’s limited interest in art was waving (though she suspected Maggie would be happy to tease her about her art nerd ways for another few minutes) the server ended up bouncing over. In short order they ended up seated at a nice little booth with a good view of the bar. Service sped up rather promptly for a bit after that point, as their orders were shuffled out what felt like only a few minutes later. Though, of course, Lena’s perception of time was perhaps not the most accurate at that particular moment. 

...After all, Maggie had taken to being a little shit by cuddling up in the booth and running a warm hand up and down Lena’s thigh. 

Either way, the night picked up wonderfully with good food and wine. Lena was all smiles as she plowed her way through a massive salad filled with delicious berries, couscous and candied nuts. Maggie was just as enthused by a thick portobello mushroom burger and some of the best fries either woman had had in weeks. They were definitely planning to make the restaurant a more frequent regular in their diets, though they might consider just ordering takeout rather than waiting for the somewhat spotty wait staff in the future. 

Which, of course, got distracted once a boisterous, loud and colorful group of people wandered in off the street and joined the two blondes at the bar. Most were in rather obvious business casual dress, clearly having come over from working a bit late at the lab across the street. Which, to be fair, was a totally reasonable idea. Having an office pub night seemed like a great idea when one had access to such a nice, reasonably priced hipster joint. 

Interestingly though, a good portion of the group was, unless Lena was drastically mistaken...not so human. It was hard to tell through the somewhat dark lighting, especially as everyone was moving around and talking animatedly, but there were more than a few little oddities. A surprisingly hard looking ridge over the forehead here, some viciously sharp looking nails there, impossible eye or skin colors over there again. It was...yeah, she was coming to realize this may, in fact, be something of an alien bar. 

Which...well, it wasn’t that uncomfortable, but it was a bit awkward. Lena was fairly well known at this point for being an ally of Supergirl (even if they hadn’t been seen together in a few months) and the ‘better’ Luthor for whatever it was worth. Maggie apparently dealt with the alien community pretty frequently at the homeless shelter she helped to run. So, really there was no reason to worry. Even if there was some awkwardness Maggie would be able to easily bridge whatever conflict happened. 

Still, Lena had to take a deep breath to brace herself when she got tired of trying to catch the eye of the waitress. She and Maggie, being huge fans of the glasses of wine they’d ordered at the start of the meal, wanted to get a bottle to split as they chatted the night away. Only, of course the waitress had gone back to her conversation with the two boisterous blondes. It seemed that the only thing that even momentarily got her attention were the other patrons wandering up beside the bar to order. 

Sighing, Lena stood up to brave the crowd and get their drinks. Carefully she sidled through the crowd, coming up to the side of the two, increasingly tipsy blondes. As she neared the bar, the CEO had a brief moment to appreciate the surprisingly broad shoulders of the two women. Both had on jackets in supple leather. Though, the jacket of the girl on the left was black, while the one one right was a more creamy pale white. Either way, they both went pretty nicely over the tight blue jeans they both wore. 

...helped, of course by the fabulous muscle definition on their legs. 

“Hey, could I get a bottle of the red for our table?” Lena said as she sidled around the women to the bar. An awkward blush rose up her cheeks after she gave a rather embarrassing cough. Giving her a smile the waitress nodded and quickly started rummaging around the closets under the bar. 

Only, a second later the conversation beside Lena paused. There was a strange panicked choking sound. Out of the corner of her eye Lena saw one of the blondes pounding the other on the back as she coughed. Though, she wasn’t looking particularly closely as the server had stood up by that point and shoved a bottle of wine in Lena’s hands. It was only as the CEO was turning around to go back to her table that she stopped briefly. A hint of something was pinging away at the back of her mind, but she didn’t pay it much mind. It probably wasn’t particularly importa-

“L-Lena?” A hoarse rough rumbled out, interrupting Lena’s thought process. 

As she turned, Lena was a bit weirded out by the strangely familiar lilting quality to it. There was a strange harmonizing hum to the sound, almost like a piano melody played over top of a backing harmony. The effect was beautiful, but definitely, definitely alien. There was absolutely no way for human vocal chords to play two entirely separate sounds at the exact same time with that amount of ease. 

Then the CEO’s eyes came up to actually see the blonde’s face in full instead of just a brief profile as she was walking by. Pale, clear skin hung perfectly over sculpted features under long silky silver-blonde locks. A thin faded scar arched over a lovely shaped brow. Full pink lips pursed in shock. 

...Impossibly blue, blue eyes pierced into Lena, full of a familiar sort of despondent loneliness with the smallest shred of fragile hope. 

Actually the more the CEO looked, the less and less the descriptor “blue” even really seemed a sufficient description. Those perfect eyes were flecked all through with a dusting of ethereal silver flecks. The main blueish hue seemed to almost reflect off of them, bouncing around and intensifying to the point the eyes _literally_ glowed sapphire. Even the pupils, such as they were, were works of fascinating abstract art. As if some painter had been trying to draw a portrait of a human from only the barest description of what a human was supposed to look like. After all, they were slitted like a cat, and a pure white instead of the black of a standard human. 

Still, strange and alien as they were, those striking features resolved quite readily into a familiar friendly face. 

“K-Kara?” Lena stuttered back dumbly as her breath left her throat. A burst of hope frizzled through her chest and the CEO felt her lips curling up in an unconscious smile. 

“Yeah, uh, it’s me.” The blonde alien murmured back, her voice thrumming warmly with a truly _painful_ sense of nostalgic warmth. Kara’s fingers twitched and she shifted forward in the way Lena _knew_ meant the blonde was just barely holding herself back from throwing Lena into a big squishy hug. Kara was here. Kara was real. Kara didn’t...well it didn’t seem like she hated Lena. Despite whatever venom she might have launched after their fight. 

Dear gods below, Lena did not deserve a woman capable of such forgiveness. A niggling thought that wormed its way inescapably into the CEO’s brain as she just kept _staring_ at the blonde. 

Even as those perfect lips curved into a hint of a concerned frown. Even as she realized that all these differences in her appearance now implied Kara had been hiding things as basic as what she truly looked and sounded like for years from _everybody._ Hell, had Alex ever seen this? Lena worried about that unsettling thought. Even as she realized that the thought of Kara hiding who she was didn’t make Lena mad anymore...just sad. Sad that Kara didn’t trust her, or rather didn’t trust the human world enough to truly be herself before this very moment. Sad that it took something as monumentally large as her foster sister getting some form of amnesia to bust Kara out of her comfy closet. Sad at how Lena had reacted and probably reinforced all those worries, but impressed at how her best friend had persevered. 

Lena worried about all of these things, even as she failed to realize she’d promptly stopped breathing and started having a mild panic attack. 

...Even as she realized her vision was going dark, there were concerned shouts from Maggie and Kara and Lena was tumbling to the floor into oblivion.


	6. Sara Lance: Useless Lesbian Matchmaker Extraordinaire!

Lena woke up to a truly adorable dimpled sight that made a wide, pleased smile stretch across her features. Even though a slight headache was reaching its way up her neck. Panic attacks were the _worst._

“Hey pretty lady. Do you have the number of the bus that hit me?” Lena said, somewhat surprised at the husky quality of her voice.

In a start, Maggie’s face whipped around to stare down at Lena, that dimpled smile turning all the way up to it’s full megawatt brightness. An action which caused Lena to blink with surprise as she recognized her actual position at the moment. After all, it’s always pleasant to wake up with your head in your kinda sorta not girlfriend's lap. Even if said girlfriend was being a bit of a brat in talking animatedly over your head and jostling you around. 

“Lena! Fuck, you alright there? You gave us a scare.” The latina women breathed out as one of her rough hands came down to gently comb through Lena’s dark hair. The action felt lovely, even as Lena realized she had a bit of a crick in her neck from the strange position. The restaurant booth was definitely not made to lie down properly in. With a groan Lena lifted her arms up to stretch the tension out of her neck slowly. 

Still a bit of a headache. Crap. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit of a headach-” Lena started replying, only to be cut off by the strangest loud whooshing sound. With an unhappy pout she dragged her gaze away from her amazing not (yet) girlfriend and over the table that she was currently laying under. 

Her gaze met worried glowing blue eyes, slitted like a cat with striking white pupils. Said eyes came along with trembling hands holding out a bottle Advil and a big glass of water. 

...Why in the hell was said bottle of Advil still in its store packaging?

Oh well, with a sigh she snatched it away, dug her way through to the actual contents and popped a pill in her mouth. She certainly wasn’t a lady to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Kare bear-” A voice, full of mischievous glee started making Lena jump. “-did you just rob a convenience store to get your totally ‘straight’ best friend slash ‘hopeless’ crush a bottle of headache meds?” The voice continued. Lena could practically _hear_ the shit eating grin, even if the voice was coming from the side of the booth she couldn’t see at the moment. 

Wait, ‘hopeless crush’

The _fuck?_

...Lena’s brain took a solid half second to restart as she propped herself up on Maggie’s shoulder to watch the byplay. 

“Sara, that's rude, shut up! How could you think...of course I paid for it! Well, I guess it was more like I left some money on the counter after I took it, but still!” The voice of her favorite blonde kryptonian huffed back. Lena watched in fascination as Kara’s slitted eyes narrowed dangerously and started glowing even more intensely at the other blonde. Especially striking since there was none of the reddish hue she knew to associate with Supergirl’s laser vision. 

Then the other blonde, Sara, she assumed, huffed out an amused laugh and scratched her nails over the top of Kara’s neck. It seemed like some sort of point just above the kryptonian’s hairline. Sara giggled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘whatever you say kitty’ and Kara just...crumpled. All tension left her frame as Kara went boneless in her seat. A breathy little sigh left the kryptonian’s throat as her head lolled back against the booth seat with a soft ‘boof.’ Those impossible blue eyes fluttered happily for all of a few seconds as a delightful rumbling purr sound filled the air.

Fucking hell, was that a goddamn pretty sight. Especially since the new angle showed off an elegantly long kryptonian neck...apparently encircled with a thin black leather collar. 

Fucking holy shit. What. The. _Fuck._

A glance over at the other...extremely well muscled woman showcased an utterly shit eating grin. Sara’s gaze was slowly moving between Kara and Lena, with a look of supreme smug satisfaction on her face the whole damn time. Especially as she slid her hand back down a bit further to gently scrape along the nape of Kara’s neck, turning the purr into an incredibly pleased moan. 

Lena was...confused I guess is a good word. Relieved that Kara was there, real, and seemingly happy, but confused. Confused that she’d entered some bizzaro world where her utterly naive and innocent ex best friend was apparently in some sort of BDSM based lesbian relationship. Especially one where her partner was showing Kara off to Kara’s apparently ‘hopeless’ crush with supreme pleasure. It didn’t even feel like it was in the ‘haha, look what you can’t have sort of way’ way. It was more in the smug friendly ‘see, this is what you’d have had all along if you just asked the pretty girl out. Do it already you dumb bitch’ sortof way. 

Well, confused might not be the only word. Horny. Horny definitely fit as well. 

Sue her, the biceps of steel (™) had featured prominently in many a dirty fantasy over the years, even before she knew they belonged to sweet, perfect, loving Kara. _Her_ Kara. 

Lena coughed awkwardly, feeling heat run up her cheeks. I mean, hot as this version of Kara was, she was kinda sorta not girlfriends with Maggie already, so, really, this was all besides the point. 

...Goddamn what a great tangent though. She is _totally_ revisiting it when she’s in the shower someday soon. 

“We haven’t been properly introduced yet, I’m Lena.” The CEO said, as warmly as she was able to Kara’s...something or other friend. If her eyebrow twitched a time or two in annoyance to the widening of Sara’s superior grin, well, that’s just Lena’s business. She was polite. Civil. The CEO even deigned to reach out a hand for a polite handshake too. 

“Charmed. Sara Lance. Ex-assassin, current timeship captain.” The blonde demurred back. Thankfully deciding to leave Lena’s sanity somewhat intact, the blonde ceased her efforts at turning Kara into a puddle of goo and raised her hand to shake. The kryptonian still looked a bit out of it though, with her eyes hooded and her form languid.

Lena shook Sara’s goddamn hand politely. 

...Fuck, even Sara’s hands were pretty in a perfectly rugged sort of way.

It also probably said something about the shoddy state of Lena’s life right now that ‘ex-assassin’ was the _least_ eyebrow raising part of that introduction. 

“So, you’re telling me that not only are alternate universes real, but bloody _time travel_ is too?” The CEO growled, her eyebrow twitching at the particularly smugly annoying, attractive, perfect and _fucking_ blonde woman still leaning up against Kara.

“Yeah babe, keep up. Apparently it’s a _terrible_ idea and Sara spends all her time fixing mucked up timelines these days. She was telling us all about it while you were having your little catnap.” Maggie replied, snickering beside her. Lena spun around to glare her not (yet) girlfriend into submission. It took a few seconds, but eventually the ex-cop blushed a fetching pinkish shade and gave a brief apologetic shrug. The CEO grinned, warm, happy, and totally not competitive, drawing Maggie in for a slow, searing kiss. 

It may have deepened a little bit more than was exactly socially acceptable after a few seconds. Oh, well, what did she really expect when she fisted her hand in Maggie’s perfect silky hair. That’s just what happens. Everybody knows that. Her not (yet) girlfriend was seriously the _best._

...ahhhh, there was the delightful choking sound Kara tended to make when she was pleasantly surprised. 

Lena: 1.

Blonde bitch: 0. 

(Well, maybe the blonde bitch had already scored a point or two when she was playing with Kara’s neck like a harpy. Tie game.)

“I didn’t realize that you, uh, you know, um, liked...what I mean is, you know, when did this erhm, _thing_ happen.” Came a hauntingly lilting voice, that Lena was sure wasn’t meant to sound quite so _sad._ Truth be told, the actual words were said in Kara’s usual awkward, upbeat, perky, cheerleader tone. Only, the secondary alien harmony had turned to strange dissonant half-tones that caused the whole thing to clash painfully. 

Fuck. 

It sounded _devastated_ and made Lena have to _think._

Perhaps not being practiced in speaking with her native accent anymore, Kara wasn’t as adept at covering up the negative things she was truly feeling. Which, well, had some disturbing connotations. After all, the awkward perky cheerleader voice was absolutely Kara’s default setting back in National City. Lena had never even _noticed_ there was anything unusual or strained about it. She knew there were only a few things that ever got her to drop it and sound more honestly happy.

Like talking about amazing Alex. Or good food. Or cute puppies. 

...Or that amazed and starry eyed tone she’d get when Lena would waffle on about what she was building at work. 

Hello self-loathing my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again!

Lena wrung her hands awkwardly as she turned to face the wide eyed kryptonian. Goddamn, Kara always had rather effective kicked puppy eyes when she was _sad._ Even presenting more human, those perky, clear blue eyes had always been _devastating._ Now in a more natural form though, those gorgeous, glowing cat-eyes turned big, wide, watery and welled up like a fucking day old scolded _kitten._

Lena’s poor heart. 

“I mean, other than Maggie I haven’t dated a woman since I was in college. It was all over the tabloids. I’m pansexual, I thought you knew.” Lena whispered back, her throat thick with emotion. It had been a reasonable assumption to make! Kara was a bloody reporter after all! One who had been working on a story about Lena personally. 

...Kara did always have a way about making up her own opinions about other people though. With how fucking _good_ Kara bloody was, Lena probably shouldn’t be surprised. Trust goddamn Supergirl to not be a paranoid ass and instead take Lena at face value without caring about all the filth that got written about the youngest Luthor. 

Lena’s poor, bruised, _ugly_ heart.

“Oh.” Came the haunting reply from the kryptonian. 

Awkward silence reigned.

...then Maggie cleared her throat quite abruptly. Lena tore her gaze away from her sad ex-best friend slash hopeless ‘straight’ crush to her not (yet) girlfriend. The ex-cop was looking a bit awkward, and Lena felt her heart clench again for another terrifying moment. Maggie was...amazing, wonderful and everything she’d needed at a very low moment. Things had been going so swimmingly before this very conversation and she did _not_ want anything to fuck that up. 

However, the expected flash of hurt in Maggie’s eyes was quick to disappear, only to be replaced with an interesting sort of wry, knowing, amusement.

“Would now be a good time to point out that Lena and I really haven’t discussed relationship boundaries yet. Plus, just putting this out there for no particular reason, I dated a polyamorous girl a year or two before Alex and I got together. It was fun. Even got to have a threesome with her wife once. Good times.” The latina woman explained, her voice an interesting mix between awkward, restrained and excited. 

Lena goggled at the wonderful, amazing, perfect fucking human she was kinda sortof still dating. The CEO was bloody amazed that she had somehow managed to not _yet_ totally> fuck up the only real substantial relationship she had left. 

...Given her bloody track record, that was just fucking impossibly lucky. What. The. Hell. 

The blonde bitch started cackling. 

Lena started glaring at her, right after she gave Maggie a pleased smile and a firm comforting squeeze of the hand. 

“Ah, you three kiddos are just too cute.” Sara guffawed, wiping an imaginary tear from her eyes. 

Maggie started glaring too. Yikes, really gotta be adept at pushing buttons to get the normally sanguine woman to lose her cool like that. 

“For future reference, Kara and I aren’t actually together. Were just _very_ good friends.” The blonde bitch continued, wiggling her eyebrows excessively. 

Lena started grinding her teeth. 

“Sara! Stop being a brat! You’re giving them all sorts of weird misunderstandings!” The kryptonian suddenly shouted. An honest to god fucking hiss left her throat as well. Which, well. 

...was kinda fucking adorably cute in an aggrieved feral cat sort of way? 

Sara snickered. The glares from Maggie and Lena intensified.

“Ah, that reminds me. I’m on my way to a hot date with my lovely and monoga _mish_ wife. Toodles kiddos. Don’t start any wild, kinky, orgies I wouldn’t start.” The blonde bitch snarked, pushing her way around Kara and shoving towards the door. 

Lena’s grinding teeth turned into an annoyed growl. Maggie facepalmed. 

“Sara!” Kara cried in exasperation at the back of the retreating blonde. 

Which would have been an awkward enough exit, but nooooo. The blonde bitch apparently had to take it a step further by turning back around once she was by the door. 

“By the way Kara, you’re officially sexiled from the apartment tonight! Make nice with your two pretty lady friends and I’m sure they'll have a nice lap or two for you to park your cute little derriere on instead.” Sara shouted over the entire room, to a raucous round of wolf whistles and cheers. 

Kara groaned and fell forward, her head banging repeatedly on the tabletop. 

Lena’s blushing groan echoed in time with the Kryptonian. 

Well, that was certainly an interesting experience.


	7. A Cessation of Hostilities

Awkward silences were the _worst._

Unfortunately, unsuccessfully trying to fill them had the bad habit of just making them suck even more.

“So…” Lena said after the bar had quieted down a bit and the awkward _thing_ between the three woman had fully set in. 

_Fuck._ Now they actually have to talk about the whole _thing,_ don’t they? The big fucking purple elephant tap dancing its way around the room. 

“Yup.” Maggie quite unhelpfully added. The ghost of an amused smirk playing on her lips telling the CEO she knew exactly what she was doing. 

Bloody brat. 

“Yeah, yeah...that was Sara.” Kara eventually replied barely above a whisper. Her tone was light and exasperated, but Lena couldn’t help but notice how incredibly _fond_ it was. Which, okay, fine, Kara is a big girl who can have other friends. That’s fine. Lena was a forward thinking, liberated young woman. Good friends and potential romantic partners are totally allowed to have friends and important people outside of their main relationships. That’s totally fine. She’s not _jealous_ or anything. She’s certainly not going to make a _thing_ out of it. 

...Even if those friends are annoyingly insurferrable and perfect blonde bitches. 

“She was...certainly a character.” Lena replied mildly, careful to keep back all of the silly, irrational bite aching to claw its way from her throat. 

Kara snorted and devolved into a set of adorable giggles.

...Clearly, Lena was not entirely successful. 

“Well, that’s one way of putting it. She’d probably prefer a heinous bitch to be honest. Sara likes pushing buttons like it’s an olympic sport. She doesn’t actually mean any harm by it, and there really isn’t anything romantic between us.” Kara explained with a wave of her hand. The grin on her face was wide and amazing. Meanwhile the other register of her voice hummed and chirruped along with amusement. Those striking white and blue eyes positively sparkled with fondness and Lena realized an absolutely _terrifying_ thing. 

She was absolutely _fucked_ and so gone on her impossibly adorable best friend. 

“So you, uh, never really did...you know?” The CEO said as lightly and casually as she was able. 

Maggie snorted at her totally unsuccessful attempt to play it cool. Brat.

“Babe, you can just ask if they’ve ever banged like a screen door in a hurricane. Kara’s a big girl I’m sure.” The ex-cop interjected, flashing a shit eating grin at the CEO. Then she gave Kara a smug little wink that had the Kryptonian turning a fetching shade of red.

Shit. Lena remembered exactly that second that Kara always makes the most adorable ‘eep’ sound when she was embarrassed. Really, turning the blonde all sorts of pretty colors with semi-innocent innuendo had been her _favorite_ pass time back in National City. 

Truly, the CEO was extremely _fucked_ six ways from Sunday. 

“S-S-Sex!!!!?” Kara fucking squeaked, jumping up in her seat and looking at them with wide, panicked eyes. Lena felt a great, amazing warmth of fondness seeping into her chest at the incredibly familiar look. 

“N-No, we would never...I mean even if I might be, like… _flufferducks._ Sara is, well, she’s very, um... _s-shiftyfluffers_ She’s very y’know, pretty and such, BUT!!!!” The blonde continued, huffing and spluttering in embarrassment. 

“E-Even if I was, y’know, _interested,_ WHICH I’m NOT, y’know, just if, well Sara’s incredibly gone on Nyssa. Like unbelievable, star crossed squooshy ex-assassin true love gone.” The kryptonian finally finished to the amused snickering of Lena and Maggie.

“Ohhhhh, so she’s very pretty is she? What are the qualities of a pretty girl in our favorite blonde kryptonian’s eyes. Just asking for a _fluffing_ friend.” Maggie teased, her voice oozing with smug amusement. 

Lena took that moment to very gracefully (if she does say so herself) choke on her own fucking spit.

Kara’s face burned a deep scarlet, and her eyes did an unmistakable couple of long, lingering flicks. They landed and hovered over the lower part of Lena’s face for a good long while, fixating intensely when the CEO licked her lips in a slight nervous tick. The surprise though, was when they shifted back over to do a slow once over up and down the ex-cop. Especially when they narrowed briefly somewhere around the latina woman’s collarbone, before widening in shock. All of which was accompanied by the rosy blush somehow getting even deeper. 

Of course, Lena absolutely wasn’t born yesterday, so she had a pretty good idea of what happened. That particular area of Maggie’s collarbone was absolutely _covered_ in several day old bite marks from the last time they got...frisky. Likely Kara was having some trouble controlling her x-ray vision when embarrassed and (probably) still a little tipsy. Which of course meant that she’d probably been (mostly) accidentally sneaking the odd peek here or there. 

Cheeky little alien, Lena internally huffed. 

The amused snort across the table informed Lena that Maggie, also not being born yesterday, had figured it out as well.

...and decided to have some more fun batting the Kryptonian around like a particularly favored cat toy. 

“So I take it our adorable little peeping Jane saw something she liked?” Maggie said, smirking in the devilishly dimpled way she did. 

The alien groaned loud and pained before letting out a series of somehow simultaneously elegant and coarse vocalizations in what _had_ to be Kryptonian. Whatever their content was exactly, Lena knew it was _filthy._

Lena felt herself smirk victoriously. Getting Kara to actually swear was _always_ an accomplishment. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it Kara. Maggie is _very_ pretty and makes the _best_ noises when you bite her. I’m sure we both totally understand the temptation. She is, after all, very _pretty._ It’s understandable to get a bit distracted.” The CEO teased with a wink. 

Kara’s groan got louder. 

“You’re both motherfluffing picking on me! No fair!” The kryptonian huffed after a moment, glaring at the pair with narrowed eyes. 

“Now, where would you get a silly idea like that. After all, it was just an innocent question about what Kryptonians find attractive. For science you see. No need to get bent out of shape.” Maggie shot back, chuckling as Kara’s glare intensified. 

Lena cackled, feeling better in that moment than she had in months, if not years. 

Maybe, for once everything would turn up in her favor? Was that too much to ask? 

(Probably. Luthors have the worst luck after all)

“Meanies!” Kara barked back, crossing her arms over her chest. The cutest, most exaggerated pout came over her features. One which made Lena’s heart melt, warm and full with good cheer. 

Pretty girls. Good friends. Nice wine. What more was there to ask for from life? This was, quite simply, a perfect moment in her opinion.

Of course, nothing good ever lasts for Lena. 

A few moments later Kara’s expression turned sharply sour. Something achingly deep and...lonely seemed to wash over her. Her eyes shimmered wetly and her breathing hitched. For a stunning second the blonde’s hands trembled nervously in front of her. Lena’s heart clenched, especially when a mournful little wheezy mewl worked its way out of Kara’s throat. 

“Uh, was that question actually serious? Did you actually want to know about, y’know...Kryptonian views of adult, um, _things?_ ” Kara whispered, voice cracking and trembling with anxious vibrato. Maggie shot Lena a surprised and confused glance. The CEO, unsure about what exact landmine they’d stepped with their teasing merely shrugged. 

Which, well, not knowing at all where the landmines were buried, Lena guessed that she’d just have to clomp her clumsy way through like a bull in a china shop. After all, the more she thought about… _things_... the more she realized she had regrets. Things she’d feel _awful_ about never saying if she got the chance.

Now...was a chance. A good one too. It was all too possible that after tonight Kara would go back off to whatever job or life she’d made for herself, and neither of them would ever see her again. These sorts of lucky, one-off meetings don’t just come around every week. If she didn’t take it...well, she might never really forgive herself. 

“Of course Kara. I know we...may have ended things really badly. However, I… uh, still care about you. An awful lot. Maggie and I talked about the whole…” Lena started saying, trailing off awkwardly and waving her hand in front of her. 

Fuck. How do you talk about your best friend for years lying to you every day. How do you move on without necessarily forgiving. Kara may have had her damn reasons or whatever. It may have been more motivated by some strange desire to please Alex or whatever...but that didn’t mean it was okay. Even with the best of intentions...Kara still hurt her badly. You don’t get a free pass for punching your best friend in the gut, just because it was mostly not intended to be mean.

“I’m...well, I don’t think I’m really mad anymore. Sad. Hurt. It made me think you never trusted me, but um… _Shit._ What I’m trying to say is…Well, it’s that I’m an idiot with a temper. A temper that stopped me from really listening before, so I never _really_ heard any of your reasons.” Lena continued explaining, her voice tight and controlled. She did her absolute best to ignore the subtle constant shifting in the Kryptonians expression. 

Unfathomably deep, aching loneliness turning to wide eyed surprise. Surprise turning to fond, amazed warmth. Warmth turning to painful kicked kitten guilt. Guilt dawning with the most brutal sort of cresting, impossible hope. 

...if she paid too much attention to the way those perfect eyes and wonderful features shifted, the swirling mass of old hurt, simmering controlled anger, distraught abandonment and deep, deep love would stop her from saying anything at all. 

“I’m...listening now, for better or for worse. You were...probably the most important person in my life for a long, long time. Despite the hurt, I still want you by my side...one, way or another. If you want to tell us about your world and your culture, I’ll listen. As long as you need.” Lena promised, as confidently as she was able.

Hot tears fell silently down her cheeks. 

She didn’t wipe them away. 

Nor did Kara wipe her own away. 

A firm hand grasping around Lena’s thigh grounded her just enough to glance over at her girlfriend. A heartbreakingly proud smile greeted her gaze, along with shining warm brown eyes. Maggie kissed her cheek tenderly and brought a hand around the CEO’s shoulder for a long hug. As it ended the ex-cop whispered, just barely audibly.

“Proud of you.”

...Lena’s tears spilled over once more, with an aborted hitch of her breath. She ghosted her own lips briefly over the latina woman’s hair. 

_Fuck._

If her stupid, fucking _idiotic,_ desperate, needy, heart didn’t stop it’s stupid fucking illogical pitter pat...she’d be forced to soon conclude she absolutely loved Maggie as well as Kara. 

If she’s honest, she probably has loved Maggie at least a little since that first perfect night together. She logically _knew_ the heady new relationship energy was clouding her opinion. That didn’t help however, with the increasingly difficult time she had imagining her life without the ex-cop as a prominent feature in it. Just the same as the way her breath caught at imagining never again seeing Kara. 

Thinking, even briefly about either made something bitter, fearful and depressing curl in her chest. No more movie nights curled up on the couch with a glorified kryptonian space heater. No more getting drunk and sharing long held secrets to an understanding ear. No more game nights with a wide smile and happy blue eyes. No more secret whole in the wall hipster joints they’ve both been meaning to try.

...it _aches_ to even _think_ about. 

So really, isn’t it for the best to just stuff all of those sorts of thoughts down a deep dark memory hole? 

A wet, smothered sob burst it’s way from Kara’s throat, pulling the CEO from her musing. Wide-eyed, Lena and Maggie looked at each other before zeroing in on the distraught kryptonian. In a panic, Kara was miserably wiping away at her eyes and apologizing repeatedly. 

Hesitantly, Lena and Maggie both reached out a hand to squeeze around Kara’s arm. It took a few seconds, but the contact seemed to help the Kryptonian pull herself together. 

A deep breath. 

“S-Sorry, just, _fuck_ I really needed to hear that.” Kara began, her voice coarse and whistling like mournful windchimes.

“Nothing to apologize for. I think you both have some unsaid things between you that you need to talk about. It’s going to be emotional, one way or another.” Maggie replied humming abstently. The latina woman squeezed Kara’s hand tighter as both a comfort and a gentle prod.

Kara nodded, still teary eyed. 

“Right, um. Yeah. That whole thing was...don’t blame yourself for not listening to Lena. I wasn’t… I was an idiot, plain fucking simple. I was more happy to bury my head in the sand than deal with my _fucking_ problems.” The blonde grumbled, voice filled with a palpable hissing sense of self loathing. 

Lena’s heart clenched. This was… well, not what she’d really wanted or expected. Sweet, perfect, untouchable Kara shouldn’t have that sort of tone in her voice. That same vicious tone that always undercut Lena’s best attempts at positivity in the dark hours of the night. In her head it always sounded like Lillian berating her for some social slight or other. In Kara it seemed to take on a more harsh alien tone...almost militant in its restrained fury. She wondered what monster managed to instil something so vicious deep inside the symbol of hope. 

This was not what she wanted. 

Sure, Kara fucked up. Bad. Now that she's had time to cool off though...it’s not like Lena has never fucked up bad before either. Kara forgave her every time. Kara is...different. Lena was the idiot who wouldn’t listen to the damn explanation. Now she thinks she probably just jumped the damn gun and it wasn’t about _Lena_. Her _shit_ fucking self worth is always making her defensive against such perceived slights. Kara might be wrong occasionally, but she always had the best of intentions. After all, Kara was just...purely, innocently good. Always. That was just a damn fundamental _truth_ of Lena’s world. 

Right? 

All the CEO really wanted was an honest apology and to actually _hear_ the kryptonian’s explanation in full. Not to…wound the woman to the point she was breaking down in tears. 

Then again, Kara was also the woman who had just retired from her life’s passion and work. Who had just seemingly lost her goddamn sister. Is it any surprise that poking under the surface would dig up something...ugly? 

...was this her fault? 

Who’s she kidding, these things are always Lena’s fault. 

A sharp poke to her leg and a glare from Maggie had the CEO wrenched out of downward spiral. Right. Pull the self-loathing back a few dozen notches. She can do that. 

(She really can’t)

“I...um, I truly meant it when I said I’d always t-trusted you, more than just about anyone.” Kara began again, her voice gentle and wary, like a cornered animal. Lena forced herself to just keep a soft smile on her face. 

She wasn’t going to hurt Kara anymore. Kara who was perfect. kara who deserved the world. Kara who she’d hurt so very, very badly. This, she promised. 

(As if she was ever able to keep her damn promises. Foolish, weak child, screamed the ugly little voice at the back of her brain.)

“T-To be honest, um, it wasn’t that you weren’t willing to listen or whatever. Please don’t blame yourself, it was all on me. It took me...goddamn weeks after to pull my head out of my ass. The reasons I didn’t share my secret with you for so long were...complicated. There was some old...unaddressed trauma, some weird Kryptonain customs and a whole bunch of just plain stupid insecure drama. I didn’t even really know my own reasons until I actually started talking it out with Sara and a couple of other friends.” The kryptonian continued bravely. Lena could practically see the way steel settled into her spine and the thin veneer of Supergirl’s strength and confidence were dragged over her shoulders. It wobbled a bit here and there as Kara’s voice warbled, but it mostly held strong. 

(Like old, broken armor, as she marched to her likely end. Or a flimsy reed bowing in a thunderstorm)

Lena’s poor, abused heart clenched again. 

No. This wasn’t right. 

Perfect, impossible Kara couldn’t be the one at fault. It was Lena. Always Lena. Lena with her stupid, immature temper. Lena who could never be as refined, elegant or intelligent as she should. Lena who didn’t listen. Lena who...raised Kara high on wax wings, only to lash out when the Kryptonian fell as the sun inevitably melted them. It was always Lena’s fault. 

Wasn’t it? 

Could it have been both of their faults? Could one of them be more at fault than the other? Maybe it was really neither of their faults? Could it really all just have been a colossal collision of bad luck, roads to hell paved in good intentions, fragile insecurities and deep, acid filled mires of old hurt? 

Could it really be that simple? 

“I would...uhm, be relieved to actually explain for real this time. But, uh, be warned, it’s kind of a long story...and I’ll definitely need another drink or three to get through it.” The Kryptonian finished, her voice crackling sadly. 

Lena took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and mind.

Then another one. 

“I’d like that.”


	8. Cultural Differences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hey y'all, posting this, but not 100% sure how I felt about this chapter. Maybe felt a bit overexplainy. Hope y'all like it. 
> 
> Also, watch out, this might bring up some heavier unexpected things if that's an issue for you. TW: Clark is a DICK to 13 year old Kara.

It was with an utterly world weary sigh that a certain blonde Kryptonian came slinking back into Lena and Maggie’s booth. Said exhausted sigh was accompanied by the unmistakable sloshing sound of a weighty bottle clunking on thick hardwood. Lena quirked her brow as Kara seemingly ignored them in favour of plunking a shot glass down in front of herself. Then the cap came off the opaque, unlabelled bottle and Kara poured herself a drink. 

...a steaming, bubbling, deep violet one? 

It took Lena a second of staring in confusion before she came across the rather obvious conclusion. 

Alien bar for aliens. 

Then, in a showing that was quite surprising, the seemingly innocent blonde knocked back the shot and blew out a gout of steam like a bloody dragon. All before pouring another shot and repeating the process again. The CEO found herself just...staring at the mass of contradictions and surprises in front of her. 

Sweet, innocent, baby faced cutie patootie, perpetual designated driver Kara Danvers...knew how to pound shots like a goddamn college freshman?

Lena just...needed a damn second to continue to recalibrate her perceptions of the universe and her obvious piss poor ability to read people. Clearly the deeply ingrained, highly trained Luthor skills for emotional manipulation and management...were much less effective than she thought. 

Granted, this evening had already been full of surprises, so what was one more. Of course Kara had been hiding her more alien features for years. Of course she had some sort of strangely close friendship that looked to maybe include some platonic BDSM with a literal ex assassin/time traveler. Of course Kara just...happened to be a rather large fan of an increasing number of distinctly non-naive vices she just never let Lena know about. 

It stung for a second, she had to admit. 

Though, rationally, she knew it was likely not about _her_ at all. When they were inseparable best friends slash mutual hopeless straight crushes they were at each others houses every other day for _years._ She knew Kara’s schedule, baring super based obfuscations, down to a fucking T. 

There was no alcohol, alien or not in Kara’s home. She never came home from seedy bars drunk or otherwise. Lena _knew_ that Kara hadn’t had more than a drink or two a night basically since she’s known her. Occasionally the superfriends got her to bend her rules a bit. Especially when goddamn _Mike, of the interns_ was still around. There was a time or two Lena could remember at National Citie’s alien bar where Kara might have gotten a bit tipsy.  
...and handsy, especially with her close female friends. Something which was a wonderful, fulfilling, _tortuous_ experience to be on the other end of. 

(dear lord above, Lena prays, please strike this stupid, useless lesbian down for writing that off as a ‘normal affectionate straight girl’ thing to do)

No, whatever her now vacant hangups about alcohol, it was a longstanding thing that predated Lena considerably. 

...she silently bet herself even money it was either a respect for Alex’s history with the bottle thing, or a long ingrained fear of losing control due to the alien closet thing. Probably a mixture of both. Not that either applied at the moment.

“So. We started this whole digression by talking about...kryptonian conventions for attraction right?” Kara said gruffly, knocking Lena out of her musing. Glancing over, the CEO took in the lax, slumped over form of her friend, who was listlessly leaning her head back as far as it would go. There was even just the faintest hint of a pleased slur to her words.

Clearly, whatever the alien liquor was, it worked fast. Which was perhaps somewhat concerning, even if it meant that honest answers were probably going to be much easier to prise from Kara’s normal stranglehold. 

“Well, yeah, whatever you want to share, I’d like to hear. No pressure to go anywhere too...sensitive or anything.” Lena replied, feeling bolstered at Maggie’s strong nod. Kara chuckled mirthlessly, her throat rumbling harshly.

“I guess it’s as good a starting point as any. Actually connects in pretty nicely with the whole...me being an awful liar thing. So, well, um...Fuck. How do you...” Kara said, making a series of aborted hand movements. Her expression pinched in deep concentration as the blonde sought to find a place to really begin.

“You know what. Fluff it. Here’s a question to illustrate the point. What sex and gender do you think I am?” The kryptonian eventually growled out, her eyes narrowing dangerously. 

Lena blinked, her eyes widening.

The implications of that-

Just. What. 

How many damn more _things_ could happen tonight. How many _fucking_ layers to the stupid onion-

Fuck!   
Lena clamped her fist down on her leg painfully to stop that line of thought from progressing. This was not about _her._ They were moving on. They were talking about it. She was not going to blow up on Kara again for sharing a deeply held, obviously emotional secret. She was not going to make this into a self-fulfilling prophecy of secrets and lies to protect the secrets because Lena always gets mad when they’re shared. 

“Wait, Kara, are you trans? Shit, have we been using the wrong pronouns for you all this damn time?” Maggie helpfully offered while Lena was too busy being a conflicted nutcase to properly respond. 

Damn. Lena has the _best_ girlfriend. 

Surprisingly though, rather than the expected descent into melancholic reveals of long held crushing dysphoria, Kara only smirked. Those gorgeous blue cat eyes sparkled as the blonde leant forward brimming with reassuringly familiar excitement. It was honestly a bit overwhelming to see an expression so typical of her best friend on these new features. Despite everything between them. Despite the alien features Kara had been hiding for years. Kara still had that same passionate, excited, driven expression on her face like all those times before when she got the bit of a cause she believed in under her teeth. 

...Lena felt the beginnings of a blush creeping over her cheeks. After all, having that beaming, megawatt, excited gush of knowledge and emotion directed at her had always been _effective._

“Oh, no, nothing like that. But Maggie, do you see what you just did?” Kara asked, grinning. Lena and Maggie glanced at each other, clearly a bit confused at this point. After a shake of her head Kara gave a cute little wiggle in her seat before continuing on with her explanation.

“You made a...more or less reasonable assumption based on the incomplete data you had. Given that Kryptonians tend to look so much like humans, most people also assume things like gender, biological sex and sexuality work in roughly same way.” Kara continued, tapping her fingers in front of her. 

“They don’t then, do they? I’ve talked to a few aliens that diverged along similar lines, but I’d never really heard anything about Kryptonians. More fool me I guess. Superman is just so...” Maggie jumped in, an excited look trailing off into somewhat awkward silence. Maggie always loved talking about gender theory. While she hadn’t known the reasons at the time, the big, original S was always something of a _touchy_ subject with Kara. 

Luckily, Kara didn’t seem to mind. 

“Vanilla? White-bread? Knuckleheaded cis-het Male?” Kara supplied, the beaming grin only faltering for the briefest of moments.

“All of the above I guess. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been willing to give any, you know interviews on Kryptonian society or anything.” The ex-cop said, raising a questioning brow. 

“To be fair, he never actually knew Krypton. All he knows is second hand accounts like you might read in a 9th grade biology textbook. All the day-to-day context and nuance is lost on him as well. I was over at the fortress once looking over some of what his parents sent with him. I’m pretty sure my uncle may have…selectively _edited_ some of the less pleasant parts out of our history.” Kara replied, getting a strange far off look in her eyes. A mournful whine left her throat a few moments later.

Lena found herself reaching out to squeeze her hand without much conscious input on her part. Kara started in her seat briefly, before turning a soft expression on both other women. A faint blush worked its way up the blonde’s cheeks. After a second or two, Kara started unconsciously wringing her fingers together and raising her hand to adjust her non-existent glasses. Two ticks Lena knew indicated she was particularly nervous. 

“So, er, I guess in a nutshell...yeah. Krypton’s gender’s were... different, very different.” Kara said, the flush getting just a touch deeper. “You have to understand, we were um, a much older society than humanity. Natural births were more or less replaced by a machine called the birthing matrix five thousand years ago. The man-woman reproductive dichotomy was...more or less meaningless.” The kryptonian concluded strongly, that same look of passion on her face. Something which told Lena all she needed to know about Kara’s heartfelt desire to share more about the history of her people. 

...While she didn’t let it distract her from the conversation at hand, it did make her wonder once more about why Kara was so determined to keep it a secret. 

“I take it then, most Kryptonians were... pansexual or bisexual? If those words even apply in this context?” Lena asked after a pause to have a fortifying slug of wine. Trying to simultaneously not be a needy creep about Kara’s sexualty, and not step her foot in any interspecies etiquette messes was _hard._

“I g-guess. I mean, people had preferences one way or the other when they wanted to have y’know...i-intercourse. But, well... whether someone had a p-penis or a v-vagina was much less relevant to attraction than basically any other consideration.” The blonde replied, the blush now reaching all the way down from her ears to her cheeks.

“Which would be?” Lena queried her tone just on the side of sultry. 

Sue her. Blushing, stammering Kara was _cute._ Especially when she practically explodes in a poof of crimson excitement over Lena basically asking what she’s into.

“Um, t-they a-are. U-um. F-flufferdoodles.” Kara stammered, fanning herself a bit with her hand. 

“L-Lena, do you remember me ever talking about how where I’m from accepting help was not a sign of weakness.” The kryptonian eventually offered. Lena quirked a brow a bit curiously at the topic shift, but nodded politely anyway. 

Kara, embarrassed and rambling, still always got to her point eventually. The CEO was more than willing to just wait for the blonde to meander her way to connecting the trains of thought.

“It was...h-honestly I was more or less drastically u-underselling it. Helping your fellows was almost… sacred. Honestly it was even something of a biological imperative. Like our whole society was built around interlocking systems of social cooperation.” Kara explained, the fetching blush on her cheeks slowly ebbing away for a driven stare. 

“Sounds nice. I’m not sure I’m quite following how this connects to Kryptonian views on gender?” Maggie replied, obviously a bit less patient than Lena herself.

“I was just getting there. Um. As we were e-evolving, and especially after the birthing matrix, our system of gender and sex broadened to s-support that cooperation instead of just base reproduction.” Kara said awkwardly, fidgeting in her seat. The Kryptonian took a couple of deep grounding breaths before reaching a pale hand up to tug down the high neck on her T-shirt.

“F-far more relevant than male or female, is where t-these show up.” Kara stuttered out, blushing even _more_ than usual. Lena wonders briefly if the poor girl is going to pass out from all the blood rushing to her head before her eyes snap to the column of pale flesh that is more fully exposed.

It’s only a breath later that Lena sees what her friend was actually referring to. On either side of the nape of the Kryptonian’s neck below Kara’s black leather collar are two slightly raised bumps. They’re a little red, obviously a bit swollen. Leaning forwards, the CEO sees a strange swirl of ridged skin spiraling into the center of the bump. Without being really conscious of it, Lena’s curious scientist brain takes control of her damn fool hands. 

Before she really has a chance to react, her long fingers are gently brushing across the bumps...no, glands maybe? Even with the distance of the booth table between them they have the strangest, almost sweet, musky scent to them. As her fingers brush the smooth skin there’s a very faint hint of warm oily wetness to them. Repeating the process secretes a bit more of whatever the strange oil is. Enough to let her fingers slip smoothly over each other. Bringing them to her nose reveals the oil is the source of the strange, but very pleasant scent. Almost like toasted chestnuts. A scent that is, in retrospect, quite familiar. After all, it's always confounded her how exactly Kara managed to find the perfect body wash. 

A _wrecked_ whimper fills the booth. 

Maggie’s highly amused snickering brings Lena back to reality. The CEO blinks and glances around, takes in the unmistakable flushed cheeks and blown eyes of Kara and suddenly _realized._

_Fuck._

Ask before _goddamn_ touching, Luthor.

“S-Sorry. I was just, y’know curious. Should have asked. Sorry.” Lena says, groaning at her own stupidity. The groan deepening even more as Kara leant back bonelessly into the booth.

“Oh no, do _not_ apologize. That felt very, erhm, good. Very g-good.” Kara whispered, a pleased and slightly drunk grin on her face. 

“I bet.” Maggie guffawed, to the ever deepening blushes of both Lena and Kara. 

Lena coughed awkwardly and decided to just cut through the tension. 

“I uh, apologize if I interrupted. You were, um, saying?” The CEO begged desperately, hoping to move on from this awkward moment. 

...Where was a kidnapping attempt when you really needed one anyway? 

“Right. Yeah, I guess I was. I was, um. S-some Kryptonians have those glands by their wrists instead.” Kara began as she slowly pulled herself out of whatever stupor Lena’s wandering fingers had thrown her into. Maggie hummed in understanding beside her and Lena was pleased for the support.

“So, uh, gender roles and expectations were based more around that. English has no proper vocabulary for these things, but um, the word I used when I described it to Alex was people with their glands by their wrists were...something like oracles.” Kara explained, a wistful, sad look on her face. 

“Wait, you’re saying some Kryptonians were pre-cognitive?” Lena asked, her eyes widening.

“No. Not exactly.” Kara replied, grimacing briefly at the misunderstanding.

“It’s, uh, it’s just... well most problems Kryptonians dealt with were too big to accomplish as individuals. Uncovering the innermost secrets of the universe doesn’t just happen from a lone hermit writing books in a cabin in the woods all their life. Do you follow? ” Kara continued explaining, that determined shine coming back once more. 

“I’m...not too sure I do actually.” Maggie interjected. Kara let out a deep rumbling sigh, that Lena knew she probably didn’t mean to sound quite as annoyed as it did. 

“Okay. So, to make it simpler. There was lots of variation of course, nothing is ever as easy to box up as society’s expectations. Just like on Earth. The stereotype at least, was that Oracles were the dreamers, the artists, the visionaries and the leaders. They who take in the wide, uncertain future and decide on a path for the rest to follow.” Kara explained passionately. Lena found herself hanging off of every word, especially as the underlying hum of tension in Kara’s voice started to ebb and flow.

“Right. What about people like you then Kara?” Maggie probed curiously. 

Kara dimmed considerably, and Lena felt a pit of apprehension building in her stomach. She wasn’t sure yet at all where this was going, but she had an inkling that something was...off, somewhere under the surface. 

“People like me were, um, called something more like ‘scribes.’ We tend to be more detail oriented. A lot of our jobs and opportunities...supported Oracles in various ways, or were otherwise decided by the lead Oracle of the family. The joke at least was that if you wanted a task debated for sixteen cycles and forgotten once it was no longer relevant, give it to an Oracle. If you wanted it to actually get done, give it to a scribe.” The Kryptonian argued, more than a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

Lena smiled, even as the pit in her stomach got a bit heavier. It was definitely cute...but it spoke of something else, less than utopian going on. Kryptonian society sounded...perhaps a bit more rigid than she was expecting. Especially if apparently Kara’s family had wide power to decide even basic things like the girl’s damn career.

An awkward clearing of a throat brought her attention back to the Kryptonian. 

“So to finally ramble on and answer the original question. As a scribe aligned Kryptonian, the traits I find attractive include…” Kara began, her glowing eyes shifting to practically stare into Lena’s damn _soul._ The CEO stared back, practically feeling the heady implication of the moment. 

“A drive to push the status quo, an empathy for those less fortunate, fierce intelligence with wisdom to temper it...and perhaps a certain sense of confident power. The sorts of things...both of you have in abundance.” Kara eventually listed, her dead serious tone contrasting with the ever rising blush on her cheeks. 

Lena grinned victoriously, even as a nervous little flutter of butterfly wings danced around her chest. That was that then. Definitive confirmation that even though Kryptonians used a completely different system of gender...Kara was attracted to them. A glance at Maggie saw the detective beaming away beside her and a warm brush of their fingers confirmed this was definitely a good thing.

Then, of course, rather than riding this train of thought right on home to the bedroom like a normal, rational human being, Lena opened her big fat mouth. 

“So, what was the connection then to the whole…secret identity?” Lena asked evenly, cursing herself and snapping her mouth shut the second she realized what she said. 

...Though, the morbidly curious part of her refused to take it back.

A pained grimace set in on Kara’s face and the poor girl started slowly curling into a ball on her seat. Maggie gave a wide, alarmed glance at Lena before shifting out of her seat to Kara’s side of the booth. It took a solid minute of Maggie whispering comfortingly at Kara before the blonde seemed to uncurl herself and look Lena in the eye again.

She winced, hoping dearly that whatever landmine she’d stepped on could be forgiven. She had after all, been trying to be as non-confrontational about it as possible. She was mostly only curious at this point after all. 

“Uh... I guess I should say that Kryptonians have a, uh, symbiotic relationship with each other. For example, oracles have a bad habit of staring off into the clouds for days without eating if a scribe isn’t around to remind them. Meanwhile scribes without an oracle to give them some direction tend to flounder their way into a panic attack. Simultaneously trying to do every conceivable task perfectly. Pheromones communicate and reinforce a lot of that instinctively, so it’s hard to y’know, explain. Especially to a different species that doesn’t experience anything similar” Kara replied, voice thick and trembling. Lena leant over and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Kara’s instinctive flinch at the approach of the CEO’s hand stung. Even if a second later Kara’s own hand practically launched forward to lean clasp it back and squeeze it for comfort.

...The worried stone at the bottom of Lena’ stomach put on another couple pounds of weight. 

“One, um, thing is. We can, y’know, ignore a lot of those urges. It’s not some huge deal, just uh, uncomfortable. So, for example, Scribes, especially when we're kids... have an instinctive urge not to lie to the authority figures or our family. After all, they couldn’t guide us if they didn’t have all the facts. It just...gives us this strangest sense of guilty wrongness that’s so _hard_ to ignore. Even if I tried with _everything_ I had. So, y’know, when I came to Earth at 13...” Kara continued explaining before trailing off. The whole time the buzzing hiss in her throat kept picking up and up, becoming a dissonant hum of quivering anxiety. Lena could practically see the quiver of Kara’s fingers indicating she was just on the edge of an overwhelmed breakdown. 

That pit in her stomach felt beyond leaden at this point.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite sure where all this was going. Some strange thing at the back of her brain was throbbing away. Like a rock stuck under her shoe that just _wouldn’t_ come out. She _knew_ where this was going on some level, but she just couldn’t put it together in words. 

Her ex-detective girlfiend, however, could suss it out much more readily than the CEO ever could. 

“So then when Clark picked you up?” The ex-cop breathed out, stunned and disbelieving. 

Kara whimpered and gave a bitter nod but refused to look up again. 

Lena remained confused. She shot a glance and a quirked brow at her girlfriend to prompt her to explain. 

“Lena…” Maggie started, before glancing askance at Kara. When no objection came from the now silently crying woman, she turned to face Lena again. 

“What do you suppose would happen when Superman stumbled across his 13 year old traumatized cousin. A man, who by the way, is so notoriously paranoid Alex told stories about how he didn’t even tell his damn partner he was an alien until they were already fucking married. What do you think his goddamn reaction would be when he found out that his young, vulnerable, lonely cousin physically couldn’t keep his identity a secret to save her life?” The ex-cop hissed out, restrained fury reverberating through every breath. 

Lena’s eyes widened in realization, snapping over to Kara.

The Kryptonian whimpered, flinching in her seat away from the touch of both women. 

...An action, which now that she thought about seemed awfully familiar. An action, which sent Lena’s brain down a whole host of new, ugly pathways. Things she never would have even _conceived_ of applying to the perpetually upbeat blonde now seemed disturbingly...plausible. 

Kara, for her part rapidly paled as she seemed to realize what both women had started to figure out. If Lena hadn’t been observing the blonde like a hawk at that exact moment, she’d definitely have missed the panicked whisper leaving her lips. 

(That was also the moment Lena quietly revised her plans to slowly destroy all the Kryptonite she’d ‘procured’ from the labs when she left L-Corp.) 

“It wasn’t! Y’know, it wasn’t bad. Whatever you’re thinking. It was just...just training. It wasn’t his fault I was such a fuckup and couldn’t get it right back then. It would have gotten anyone frustrated!”


	9. Screaming through the Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erhm, so, yeah, angsty chapter. This will probably the last like it for awhile though. Next chapter is going to be moving toward poly pile fluff! I guarantee it!

Shocked and angry eyes pierced into her across a smokey table. One pair, surrounded by lovely brown skin then sharped in a judgemental way that makes something ugly, defensive and a screaming roar in her chest. The other shifts to sticky, awful confusion as perfect brows pinch in thought. Both drift off somewhat, clearly focused on and putting together memories, like hounds chasing after a scent. 

She doesn’t want to face whatever awful conclusion they dredge up. 

She hates and loves both sets of eyes so much her hands clench viciously. Her palms slice open on nails she forgot were quite so sharp now. After all, she is normally so used to filing them down to the quick every other week. It’s only been for the last few weeks that she’s been living so openly as an alien. 

Two blocks away a car honks its horn, grabbing her attention. Screams of profanity echo through the street. Her ears hone in, picking up lungs, heaving in exhaustion along with the steady slap of sneakers running on asphalt. A young voice, probably no more than 13 whispers in panic about getting a thrashing if they aren’t home by midnight. Some part of her resolves to keep an ear out. After all it might just be exaggerated worry about a firm scolding for staying out too late. 

(She’s pretty sure it’s not)

A sharp, pungent scent billows over from across the bar, coming from the bathroom. A breathy sigh and squelchy sound follow. A second later her brain, unpracticed at processing her newly heightened level of smell (fucking hormone implant) resolves the pheromone cloud into one of lust and drunken desperation. Then she hears the sharp sound of a wrapper tearing, followed by sticky plastic being unrolled down a pulsing fluid filled tube.

Her eyes fly forward into the distance, desperate for distraction. 

(It doesn’t help, and a filthy feeling of guilty mortification drips into her bones)

In a room five buildings away her eyes land on a woman who has her hands raised in anger. A bruised and exhausted man curls into the corner, shying away from her. A toddler huddles behind him, holding on to his pant leg desperately. Her ears only manage to focus on the room when the ensuing slap has already landed. Then they catch the resultant stream of vitriol on the supposed uselessness of the man for being laid off from his job. 

(She viciously stops herself from flinching as the glare turns from the man to the child a second later.)

A coppery tangy scent in a park a block away catches her attention. This time, it’s much easier to tune in to what’s happening. Some slowly shriveling part of her soul sighs despondently. After all, seeing a badge wearing officer club some poor homeless man over the head for loitering on a park bench is an everyday thing for her at this point. Sometimes life makes her just _despair_ over the future of this planet and species. She’s stubborn though, oh so stubborn, and distantly memorizes the cops badge number to start documentation for a formal complaint.

(Much good it’ll do when the police ethics office is beholden to the department for funding and thus utterly toothless.)

Closer, so much closer another pheromone cloud hits her like a brick to the face. Worry, concern, affection and fear, so much fear fill her nose. She blinks dumbly, too lost in the sights, sounds and stories of the city around them to pay attention.

A warm hand lands on her shoulder. She almost jumps in her seat, but luckily, so luckily, uses her iron control to freeze in place as much as she is able. After all, if she moves too fast, without paying attention, even for a second, someone she loves will probably pay the price. 

“Kara. Come on, come back to us. You’re okay, take a deep breath for me sweetheart.” A familiar, honeyed voice whispers in her ear. It’s barely audible over the cacophony of the city around them. However, her brain knows it can trust this voice. Knows it’s _important._

Shakily, her attention slowly focuses back down into the moment. Her gaze resolves to see Maggie, sweet, conscientious, driven Maggie reaching out to ground her. Warm, concerned eyes stare at her, but this time, they are shockingly free of judgement. Maggie nods, as if in understanding and solidarity with all the unstated little implications. Without a word being spoken the latina woman opens her arms and gently pulls Kara into a very loose embrace. 

The kryptonian supposes that’s a fair enough trade. Sure it _hurt_ when she ripped out the emotional scabs for them. After all, the little tidbits she’d dropped without thinking properly had been hidden for so long. Of course it would hurt, they’d been pushed to somewhere deep in the back of Kara’s brain. Just one more thing in the ever expanding box of memories that must be packaged away, far from sight and mind. Opening up the box, even just a little, even to trusted, wonderful friends like Lena and Maggie just...filled Kara with an incredible sense of dread and instinctive fear. She’d only ever started to do this recently, with Sara and Nyssa, just a month or two ago. 

At least Maggie cares enough to try and make it better. Just like Alex would if she were around. If she _knew._ The thought makes her chest warm briefly. After all, Kara can just see the stubborn set on Alex’s face as the agent would no doubt be swiping up a gun by now. After all, fools who hurt her baby sister do not get off scot free. 

(Don’t think about Alex, a voice, boiling just barely under the surface of Kara’s mind hissed venomously)

“Kara, I’m not...I’m not sure what you must be feeling but just know we care. We understand. If you want to talk more we’ll listen. We don’t have to though.” Another lovely voice, Lena this time said softly.

Cold acid burns through her. She wants to accept the offer. She wants to run screaming from the restaurant. To hide in some deep dark corner somewhere and never come out to see the light of day. That way, she’ll never see the inevitable looks of disappointment and frustration on their faces. She can’t...she just can’t handle that one more damn time. 

(It’s better this way Kara. Even with all the progress you made...I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be living with me. If someone came for you... well, it wouldn’t be pretty for anyone involved. The Danver’s will take care of you, you’ll love it. I’m sorry, I love you.)

No. She’s not going to be the weak, stupid, desperate little girl anymore. She’s going to own up to her mistakes. She’s not going to let things fester and hide away for years at a time. Kara needs to start making it a practice to have difficult conversations with the people she loves again. She’s already seen the fallout of that particular weakness of hers many times over. Lena’s unexpected appearance tonight is more than proof for her that actually _talking_ helps. Nyssa would be so smug if she knew Kara was taking her advice, learned through necessary hard years of arguments and therapy with Sara. 

(Merciful Rao, she doesn’t want to be alone again. Please don’t go- please don’t go- I’ll do anything! Please just don’t leave me alo-)

Kara clears her too dry throat and takes a deep wheezing breath. A soft, sad whirr whistles in her throat. It takes every ounce of focus and determination she has not to let herself hare off into the stories and world around her. Her fingers tap on the table in a steady 1,2,3 beat to keep herself grounded. It’s not enough, so she starts bouncing her leg to time with the offbeats. It helps, just enough to look Lena in the eyes and actually _explain._

...like she should have so long ago. If she wasn’t such a fucking stupid _coward._

“No. I’m okay. I should just get it all out now. You deserve it after all.” Kara eventually replied, waving away the dubious looks both women sent her. 

There were certain things, she _knew_ were more important than her own comfort and happiness. That had been a fundamental truth of her life as Supergirl. It’s her own fault that she never applied that standard to certain personal topics before. 

(She ignored the pathetic whine in her throat, contradicting her steady tone. She was goddamn Supergirl. She could do this!)

“It, um, training with Kal was not nearly as bad as I think you’re thinking. Really it only lasted a couple of months after I landed on Earth. All we did was maybe show a bunch of flashcards and I’d try to not to tell Clark what was on the card.” Kara eventually said, humming absentmindedly as she tapped her fingers away on the table. 

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

In a flash, Lena’s expression sharpened into something frightfully focused and sharklike. 

“What was _Clark_ doing during these little...training sessions?” The CEO hissed pointedly. 

Kara winced and tapped her fingers on the table just a bit faster. Still, she’d made up her mind to face hard conversations now. She wasn’t going to stop there. 

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

“Well, um, he’d been working with Batman for years already and had picked up a few tricks of the trade. He um, tried a few basic interrogation techniques that I had to resist.” The Kryptonian replied, feeling an uncomfortable churn somewhere low in her gut.

(The yelling, so loud! Why do her ears hurt so much! Every cell of blood, every tensing muscle fiber, she hears it all move. Constantly shifting and snapping in a cacophony of anger and barely controlled violence. Each spoken word resounds through the echoing space like the experimental railguns her ukr used to test for the military.)

“How...how did you feel about that?” Maggie softly asked, waving off a fuming Lena. Without missing a beat the latina woman’s fingers curled into the flesh of Kara’s arm. Kara felt herself leaning into the touch and melting under the warmth. 

Briefly, lost in the sensation, her mouth moves without really thinking it through. 

(Fuck.)

“It was fine really. Nothing too bad. Mostly just a lot of good cop-bad cop sort of cheesy tropes. The yelling was pretty painful with my ears just adjusting to being on Earth, but he never really meant to hurt me or anything.” Kara replied, her voice slurring a bit in mounting drunken exhaustion.

It’s fine. Really. No big deal. 

(Except that one time with the green rock.)

(Or that other evening a few months in when he got fed up with her never being able to hold out longer than 15 minutes.)

“What do you mean by ‘fed up’ Kara?” Lena growled angrily, startling the Kryptonian. 

Did she say that out loud?

“Fuck.”

“Lena, down a notch. Not helping.” Maggie hissed as Kara flinched away. After a second, the ex-cop had put a gentle hand on Kara’s cheek to turn her head to face her. Warm, concerned, eyes filled her rapidly clouding vision.

“Kara darling, what Lena is _trying_ to say, is that we are concerned and frustrated that it sounds like you were hurt in this way.” The ex-cop said, her voice carefully controlled to be as neutral as possible. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, we just want to know what happened so you have someone who can help you process. You’re not a burden, and your feelings are important. Believe me, dealing with the aftermath of these sorts of situations is literally part of my job now.” She continued, tone warm and heartfelt. 

Guilt bubbled in Kara’s chest once again. 

“But I did fuck it up. It was months and months of absolutely no progress because I’m an idiot. My stupid instincts just made it so hard to _shut up._ ” Kara growled backed, sending a heated glare at a surprised Maggie. With a huff she turned to stare intently at the table in front of her, tap-tap-tapping her fingers anxiously into the wood. 

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

Right. That didn’t actually explain anything. Also she should probably apologize since she’s being such a giant, heinous bitch to the nicest two women she’s ever met besides Alex. 

“So, he, uh, decided to help with that a bit. On the data files we were given by our parents there was a...drug. It was designed as a last resort for grieving and depressed parents to...calm and regulate those instincts down until things weren’t quite so bad.” Kara slowly ground out, forcing herself not to punch her damn fingers through the table. Everything on this damn world was so fucking flimsy.

(She doesn’t mention how the drug had nasty side effects. Rather than just taking the edge off the bad feelings, they just suppress most complex emotions. How patients were left swimming through a veritable fog of drugged uncertainty. How every emotion just sort of got shunted away to some deep corner of their minds since it’s impossible to target negative emotions specifically. How it left patients only able to pull up the most intense things they feel, and even that was spotty. How it was never meant for long term use, only to give the extended community a few weeks to reach out and provide greater social support to the widow. How it was tightly controlled, even illegal to sell without a prescription.)

“He um, made an implant of it and shot in my arm one evening. Things went smoother after that. We did a couple of more intense training sessions where he got a bit physical. I was much better at keeping secrets at that point though, so we only did them once or twice and then he dropped me off at the Danvers.” Kara continued robotically, ignoring the curling scents of disgust and anger roiling off her two friends.

She already knows she’s a fuck-up. She doesn’t need to see it reflected yet again on their faces. 

“And that was...it? Is this...implant still in use?” Lena asks, her tone just past some sort of strange combination of devastated, shocked and sad, so sad. It...surprised Kara. For some reason she was expecting bitter recrimination and disgust. She almost...assumed they’d just walk up and leave without ever talking to her again.

Having full access to her emotions again _sucks._ They keep ping-ponging around like a brain damaged cocker spaniel chasing a laser pointer. One moment she’s on the top of the world, so happy and glad to be finally making a real difference...the next she feels like she’s the lowest of the low. A worm beneath the boots of her betters.

Withdrawal is a _bitch_ even if the worst of it is already over.

“Well, that’s a lot of the story. Sara’s team found and removed the implant during a post-mission medical check up recently. It was… well the first time I ever talked about it. With anyone. Even Alex. The withdrawal afterwards...has been fluffing me up pretty bad. It was a big reason to pull back from being Supergirl.” The kryptonian slowly replied. Without much conscious input she felt her voice going tight and the hum in her throat turning sour and dissonant. 

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

(She doesn’t mention how the blonde had to be restrained by Nyssa to stop her from hunting down Clark in a fit of vengeance. Sara, despite being one of the best, most honorable people Kara knows, has a righteous mean streak a mile wide. Not helped of course by the lingering hints of the lazarus pits.)

Still, that’s not it of course. She promised to explain for Lena, why she was such a lying bitch for so many years.

Kara cleared her throat pointedly. She leant her head back to stare intently at a point in the ceiling to avoid looking at the expressions of her two friends. The sour combination of sadness and pity wafting over her nose was already bad enough. She didn’t need their faces burned into her near eidetic memory as well. 

(Her even more devastatingly sensitive nose was the first thing to unsettle her after the implant was removed. Kryptonian’ social dynamics were based around complex pheromone exchanges after all. The only way to truly suppress those sorts of instincts involved also compromising their ability to scent them as well.)

“Nyssa, um, brought me to a meeting with her therapist a couple times since I’ve been in the city. In one of those sessions we, uh, were talking a bit about why I kept the secret so long for you Lena.” Kara began as neutrally as she could.

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.

(A small part of her brain hears the kid she listened to earlier return home. Shouting ensues followed by two meaty smacks of skin on skin. Useless. She’s so useless.) 

“The running theory is that afterwards my fucked up brain over-dependently latched onto Alex as my only perceived prime familial Oracle after that whole experience. A lot of the paranoid junk Clark told me about Earth society flatly contradicted the preparatory material my pod read me on my trip to Earth. Our...training made it hard for me to trust him after, so she became my yardstick for the truth of human society.” The kryptonian continued, pointedly ignoring the increasingly understanding hums of the other woman. 

Why wasn’t Lena angry at her anymore? It just… it confused her so much. She was happy about it...but she didn’t feel like she really deserved it. Lena should _hate_ her. Hell, everybody should. She always fucks shit up and gets people hurt after all. 

(She tried not to think about what Nyssa would say about _that_ particular line of thinking.)

1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. 

“On Krypton I would have had at least a few other Oracles that could disagree with her. Here though, I really only had the one, so if she put a line in the sand...I didn’t really feel like I could cross it. By the time you’d really won Alex over the point she might have allowed me to tell you...we’d been friends for years. I knew it would hurt you terribly and I just...I was just too afraid, and too much of a coward.” Kara finally spat out, trying not to let her hands tremble too much. 

(She was unsuccessful.)

“Kara.” Lena whispered, snapping Kara’s attention and gaze back to the brunette woman. 

“I...can’t say you didn’t hurt me, or that what happened was okay.” Lena began slowly.

Kara felt her heart tremble and stab with hot, oozing guilt. She shouldn’t complain, or feel sad. She has nobody to blame but herself after all. 

Lena took a deep, calming breath, causing Kara to blink and keep paying attention to her best friend. A glance back and forth showed her and Maggie having some pointed silent conversation that Kara just had to wait through. After a second the CEO nodded solemnly and turned to face Kara again. 

“I will say though, I understand and I’d like to still be your friend. To be clear, what happened with Clark was awful and _not_ your fault. I’m very glad you’re getting some help now. If...you promise to keep working on yourself and not to keep a secret like that from me again I know I’ll forgive you.” The CEO whispered, voice falling off into a desperate, lonely whimper. 

Warm, happy surprise bloomed in Kara. Her vision went spotty as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Her head snapped up and down in a desperate series of nods. 

Then the Kryptonian smiled at Lena. It may have been bittersweet and trembling, but it was honest and wide in a way that her usual broad plastered on grins never really could be. Even so, It felt better than any expression she’d made in months.


	10. Superfluffy, activate!

Morning was absolutely _not_ Kara’s friend. Hell, sleeping in general was just generally problematic. After all, years and years of being National City’s constantly on-call superheroine made the whole...relaxation thing more than a little problematic. Despite her best efforts, despite the breathing exercises she's gotten from Nyssa, despite the _logical_ knowledge that she had nowhere in particular to be...she was always going to have a wary ear out. 

After all, even with a dramatic scaling back of Supergirl duties, there’s always the chance some world ending alien invasion could happen that would require her to get suited up as soon as possible. It’s just a matter of time really. She knows how this goes. 

...Naturally, this was all even more of a giant pain in the fluffing _ass_ when she had a Supergirl sized hangover. 

So, is it really any surprise that despite going to bed sometime well after 1am, the Kryptonian is rudely awakened around half past five. While it may not be New York, Star City never truly sleeps. Nor does crime for that matter. Which, of course means that Team Arrow _has_ to get involved in some sort of stupid bullshit shenanigans that make Kara want to _growl_ at them to be quiet. 

Unfortunately the periodic booms and near constant screeches of metal tearing metal are _actually_ halfway across the fluffing city. It’s not like she can just yell from her bed to knock it off with the sword fighting and dramatic car chases and be actually heard. Well, with her powers she probably could, but blowing out every window in a two block radius is _probably_ a disproportionate reaction. That’s probably bad. 

Plus, she’s supposed to be keeping a low profile while in the states. The whole living out of the alien closet thing imposes a whole different set of restrictions on her actions. Starting another round of anti-alien sentiment because Supergirl just _had_ to get a drunken disorderly charge at 5 in the morning on a Saturday was _not_ a good idea. 

...She still kinda still wants to. The stabbing migraine their fluffing shenanigans are causing her is _not_ fun.

(Even if she’s glad of the heads up for trouble and takes to tracking Sara and Nyssa’s thumping heartbeats across the City. Fuck if she’s going to let her best friends be hurt because she was having a grumpy hungover gus day.)

Still, one way or the other, she’s well and truly awake now. Thus, she very, very bravely opens her eyes to the searing first rays of dawn peaking over the horizon. While the ensuing rush of pain feels more or less like getting an icepick jabbed in her eye socket, it’s blessedly quick to fade as the warm sun on her face kickstarts her powers into full gear again. 

(and trust Kara, that’s really fucking saying something. Since she actually knows more or less what that feels like from one memorably fucked up kidnapping while saving the world. Kryptonian healing powers are _no_ joke.)

All of this leads up to a very strange moment of shock when the blonde haired alien actually glances around at her immediate surroundings. It takes a solid minute of dumbfounded staring to actually process the very clearly unambiguous vision before her. 

Lena goddamn Luthor, and Maggie baddass motherfucker Sawyer.

...fucking naked and cuddling her, Kara stupid dumb coward Zor-El underneath expensive black sheets.

She has a moment to smile happily as a warm blush creeps up her cheeks. She’s not really sure what fucking good deed she’d done to receive such a _pleasant_ hallucination this fine morning, but she’ll happily praise Rao in thanks. She’s pretty goddamn sure this fantasy moment will be filling her personal spank bank for at least the next _month._

Then the rest of her senses catch up to her with all the grace of a sledgehammer to the nose. After all, both women, the sheets, the fucking headboard, hell the entire fucking room are _drenched_ in a cloud of lust soaked pheremones. The worst of which she is _certain_ is from slowly drying cum on the fingers of both women. Not all of it is even from Lena or Maggie. Kara’s superpowered nose is strong enough now that she's off the suppressing drugs to pick up blood dozens of blocks away, so of _course_ she can smell her own embarrassing musk between her legs. 

Which, now that she’s sufficiently mortified to want to escape into the floor, calls into question the whole pleasant karmic fantasy thing. Especially since the scene, as a person who has experienced more than her fair share of hallucinations and mind control, is far, far too realistic to be faked. Those sorts of hallucinations are usually only truly accurate visually. Getting all the other complex senses involved is...complicated to say the least. Enough that very, very few supervillains would even bother trying to capture them. All of which naturally implies…

...holy shit. Flufferducks. Sweet merciful Rao take her home. 

Right, right. The bar. Meeting Lena and Maggie again. Sara sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Upchucking her stupid cowardly, secret keeping guts all over the conversation. Talking about fucking _Clark._ Getting wasted with Lena and Maggie after. Cuddling together in a too warm car. Soft, vulnerable looks and lingering touches. Winding up at their place sometime after. Making out with Lena and Maggie while very, very drunk. Getting overwhelmed and overstimulated, especially as her anxiety over breaking the fragile drunk humans mounted. Moving off to sit on a chair beside the bed and just _breath_ for a minute. Having a great time just watching and occasionally sneaking a quick kiss while Maggie made Lena scream and scream and scream. 

(Shamefully sneaking her fingers into the waist band on her own pants. Sweet, hot slick under her fingers. Hot, panting growls in her throat.)

Playful eyes flashing across the room. A tired Lena flipping her and Maggie’s positions with a growl. Lena with her entire bloody _hand_ in her girlfriend's pussy. Whispered, taunting offers from across the room to put on a show. Furious, desperate nods. Wet, _filthy_ squelches ramping in time to Maggie screaming in the throes of violent pleasure. Trembling in all of Kara’s limbs. Barked orders to Kara not to come until Lena says so. Whining, pathetic begging rumbling through the room, deafened by the Latina’s happy squeals.

...a frantic command, then stars, so many stars, bursting behind her eyes. 

Desperate, frantic breathing. Hot, sweat soaked flesh curled into each other. Trembling Arms pulling her up onto the bed to cuddle. A happy purr in her throat as three pulses slowly settled into exhausted repose. Pleasantly blank wine soaked dreams. 

...yeah, that all happened. Right. 

_Fuck._

...What now? 

Clearly the answer was to silently freak the fuck out for a solid 20 minutes.

Then, when that _lovely_ activity lost it’s charm, Kara moved on to freaking the fuck out by tapping a finger nervously on the bedside table. Of course, that only resulted in a series of pained, unhappy grumbles from her much less durable bedmates. Clearly she wasn’t the only one going to have a hangover when they woke up. Which...was less than helpful. She really, really, _really_ didn’t want her first interactions with entirely sober post make-up Lena and Maggie to be about her making their hangovers worse. That’s just bad karma. Everybody knows that. 

So then the obvious answer is to carefully, very carefully slip out of the bedsheets and hover out to the living room. A quick spin around the place finds that the buttons on her shirt and pants (one of which had somehow been thrown onto the bloody ceiling fan) were destroyed. Of course. Fluffing of course. After all, drunk, horny as fuck Kara was not actually known for her grace and delicacy. 

So yeah, the plan after a quick shower is to hang out in Lena’s apartment for at least a few hours until the saner members of the household actually wake up and she can borrow some clothes. Mostly naked of course. Except for a set of questionably clean booty shorts and a black leather jacket. Great. 

...At least she had the presence of mind to bring her Superhero ‘go bag.’ Which, really, is nothing special. All it really has in it is a bunch of the most popular Earth currencies (hey, the munchies wait for no Superheroine (What? Do _you_ want to be SOL after stopping a mudslide in Thailand and needing a quick power snack?). Of course there’s also a sketch pad and pencils for when she gets bored. Plus, just in case, she still has her old superfriends communicator (not that she really uses it anymore) and her Super suit.

...Which, yeah, no, not an option. That would just be like waving a red flag in front of a bull to wear in Lena goddamn Luthor’s swanky apartment. Nor did she want to risk a camera capturing her escaping out of Lena’s window as Supergirl to grab real clothes. Lex is probably still somewhere around being a massive, creepy, prick. Kara sighed, resigning herself to still being quite a bit more naked than she’d like.

So. Yeah. The whole waking up and getting ‘dressed’ freak out took...maybe an hour? So the clock on Lena’s over is only reading 6am. She wonders when exactly is normal for default humans to wake up after a night of drunk fucking. Plus, well, even if she distantly knows Lena isn’t at L-Corp anymore (it was _all_ over the papers) Kara stil _has_ to assume she has some sort of work engagement. Lena is fundamentally a workaholic after all. 

...Which, now that she thinks of it, raises a few thoughts. 

Namely, some good ideas for how to make the time pass a bit more quickly while she waits here awkwardly. 

So, yeah, the Kryptonian firmly concludes that it’s time for sneaky, helpful ninja Kara to activate! 

Of course, given that her powers can’t _quite_ fully deaden the dehydration headache from a long night drinking, she goes ahead and downs a couple cool glasses of water. It just makes sense to pour several more for Lena and Maggie after that. Of course it also makes sense to sneakily hover her way into the bedroom to silently drop them off on the bedside table. Since she figures she has plenty of time to whip something up quickly, she also scribbles out a quick note to join her in the kitchen for breakfast _after_ finishing the water. 

...If she leaves soft kisses on the foreheads of both slumbering women, well, that’s just her business. 

Then of course, she has to beg the question of what _exactly_ to make for this hypothetical breakfast. She’d kinda been hopeless in the kitchen for awhile there (stupid superpowers making it too easy to break everything and scaring her off exploring) but she’s been learning a lot lately. Especially since Nyssa’s therapist has been urging her to take things slowly and start appreciating the simple, everyday tasks of life more. Apparently it was supposed to help her manage the awful anxiety that had been burning in her chest for weeks and weeks. Learning to cook for herself instead of always order out had been a prime opportunity and case study. 

It had been full of stops and starts, but slowly she’d learned to appreciate the simple, soothing motions of chopping ingredients and carefully stirring pots to ensure things don’t burn. After a solid week of intensive lessons from Nyssa, slowly, _slowly_ she’d learned to stop being such a forgetful, clumsy cow in the kitchen. She’d learned to stop breaking knobs and twisting knives into pretzels and to stop getting distracted halfway through and forgetting something was in the oven. 

...She’s just glad Nyssa was able to get the scent of smoke out of her apartment. Kara’d feel _awful_ if she somehow fucked that up for them as well. 

(A distant, pointed voice that sounds like the woman herself reminds her that one of the prime symptoms of being on that damn drug was loss of attention span. How this was supposed to get even worse during withdrawal. How ‘brain fog’ was a key symptom to manage for the first few weeks. That it’s not her fault and a normal part of learning to cope with unmedicated life again.)

So, yeah, that means breakfast is _totally_ a thing she’ll be able to fluffing _nail._ Kara is absolutely determined with every fiber of her soul to make the best damn breakfast either woman will ever fluffing have. 

(Maybe then they’ll stay, a sneering voice that sounds suspiciously like Clark snipes)

Well, first things first, she does a quick round through the kitchen and pantry to see what exactly there is on offer in terms of ingredients. Predictably, the CEO has an incredibly well stocked kitchen filled with stupidly expensive and high-quality ingredients. 

...Kara’s not going to lie, now that she has a new hobby, she has to do a squealing little happy dance to just have so many _options._

The first thing she ends up whipping up is an old family recipe Nyssa showed her for a type of spiced potato and chickpea cakes (well, family in the sense of she learned it from the rather amazing cooks at the league at least). From what she remembers, she knows the nice balance of grease and wicked spices will probably hit exactly the spot for a hung-over Maggie. Plus, she can whip up a quick cooling chutney with mint for Lena while she’s waiting for them to cook. Sensitive irish tongues weren’t ones for too much heat as she recalled. 

Making all that occupies her for a while in a very familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring and frying. Still, when all is said and done, she’s popped them into the fancy oven’s warming tray and it’s barely half past 6. Fidgeting for a productive activity, she ends up chopping a whole whack of fresh fruit and putting together an impressively gigantic tangy fruit salad. She found herself grinning the whole time though, since this will _definitely_ be a fruit salad to remember. Apparently Lena is clinically incapable of buying anything but rich people fruit. Everything is guava this, dragon fruit that, lychee something else. It’s honestly to the point that she needs to try everything at least a few times to figure out what tastes good with what. 

...not that she’s complaining at all really. The looming monster of Kyryptonian caloric intake must be appeased one way or another. 

Of course, seeing the fancy sourdough bread in Lena’s cupboard Kara is contractually obligated as a sortof millennial budding foodie to whip up some truly rocking avo toast. Only, she decides to spice it up a bit with a nice option between caramelized onions or some toasted nuts to go on top. What? It tastes good alright? Especially since she’s careful to keep the dry and wet ingredients separated until she’ll plate them at the last moment. 

...It just wouldn’t do for anything as simple as soggy toast to ruin her girls morning after. 

(Holy shit. Based on at least some of the conversations she could remember last night, there might even be a chance of them actually being her girls! Yay!)

Sooooo, she’s kinda stumped for other ways to occupy herself.

Scones! She can make scones!

Which, given the fancy blood oranges in the fridge, end up being deliciously glazed with luscious, tangy red icing. While her baking will certainly never be quite as good as a Noonan’s sticky bun, there is something to be said for baked goods, warm, right out of the oven. 

That’s around the moment when Kara turns around and notices the absolute _disaster_ she’s made of Lena’s kitchen. Everywhere she looks is flour on countertops, dirty dishes and used pans. Which causes her to let out a few muttered Kryptonian curses that would cause her mother to rinse her damn mouth out with soap if she heard. Being the gracious houseguest that she is, Kara spends at least a little of that her time to kill cleaning up the giant mess she’d made of Lena’s kitchen. Which... given that she sometimes injects a bit of superspeed into the less fun kitchen tasks doesn’t take that long at all. 

For want of anything else to really occupy her time, Kara ends up on the couch, looking out over the truly amazing view, awkwardly tapping her fingers on a table. That works to keep her calm for about...10 or so minutes. By then, a truly irritating itch has built up in her fingers and she just needs to do something else productive. Which, given that she’s exhausted all conceivable cooking options (no, bad Kara, popping out to grab a pound of bacon isn’t workable, you’re cooking for two vegetarians and you’re naked) leads to her pulling out her sketchbook. 

Painting may be her longest lasting hobby slash coping mechanism, but she has the tools to at least do a nice charcoal drawing of the dawning Star City skyline. 

(She firmly resists the temptation to sketch out the adorable, sexy vision in the bedroom. At least for now. Maybe she’ll give in when she gets back to Sara’s apartment. She’s needed to practice her nudes anyway. Shut up Sara, that’s totally a valid excuse!)

Eventually, of course, her Superpowered ears pick up a pair of quickening heartbeats. Shortly afterwards there are a pair of pained, clearly hungover groans. A quick glance over her shoulder makes her smile as sulky pouts turn to confused, pleased surprise on the discovery of the glasses of water. The glasses are quickly drained but it takes a few minutes for the women to drag themselves out of bed and stumble their way into the bathroom.

...If Kara has to discreetly pick up her jaw from the floor and fan her heated cheeks down, well, that’s just her business. Lena and Maggie hung-over but naked is still Lena and Maggie naked. 

Though, all of this reminds her that it’s basically showtime. 

A quick couple bursts of Superspeed has everything out of the warming bins and onto the long breakfast island. As Kara putters about putting the finishing touches on everything she takes a moment to remember the most important part of any hungover breaking of fast. 

Coffee!

It’s the work of a moment to sniff out the cupboard full of a variety of clearly expensive, fancy bean blends and teas. For a moment she just...goggles at the sheer variety of choices. Still, being the cheatey, cheater, McCheaterson she is, she has ways of knowing which are the favorites. After all, every time Lena or Maggie pick up a can of the stuff, they leave a faint trace of their unique personal scent on them. A careful couple of sniffs around reveal that Lena has been favoring a nice dark roast coffee, while Maggie has apparently been going back to a dark pu-erh tea. She gets the coffee thrown into the machine, and sets the tea to steeping before zipping back to her spot on the couch. 

So she can, you know, go back to _casually_ and comfortably drawing in peace. Rather than pacing nervous circles around the Kitchen like a nutbar.

...fuck, she really hopes the girls like the breakfast she’s made. 

(Please, don’t leave me! I’ll be good Clark, I’ll be so good! I don’t want to be alone again!)

“The _fuck?_ Kara, did you do all this?” A shocked and amazed voice mutters over her shoulder. Kara’s gaze flits around and takes a long, lingering look at a dripping wet Lena wrapped up in a towel, with an amused looking Maggie behind her. 

...then promptly chokes on her spit and bursts into a startled red blush. 

Well. That’s a thing!

...Kara decides she can now probably die happy and content. Nirvana has been achieved. 

“Yup!” A squeaky, high strained voice replies.  
(Oh right, that’s her. Duh.)


End file.
